The Mystic and The Mundane

by Equus Pallidus

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Princess Celestia, Sad, Main 6, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 77543

An ancient ritual in a dead language meant to empower the Elements of Harmony? What could go wrong?

In the aftermath of the Changeling invasion, Twilight Sparkle realized the great (and, in retrospect, obvious) flaw of the Elements of Harmony - They may well be Equestria's greatest weapon against evil in the right hooves, but the artifacts themselves are vulnerable.

But what if the power of the Elements could be summoned without the jeweled necklaces, without the tiara? Working off little more then cryptic hints from her mentor, Twilight embarked on a mission, plumbing the depths of the royal archives to rediscover an ancient ritual, one which could concentrate the Elements within their living vessels...a ritual she has finally found.

What's the worst that can happen?

Published 2012-11-08 09:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-09 06:34:43 UTC

Chapter 1

She held her breath as she poured over the ancient scroll again, fearful that even the barest exhalation would cause the yellowed parchment to crumble to dust before she had committed its contents to memory. No one in the archives had had any idea how old the document was, though one of the linguistics experts recognized that the flowing, handwritten script was in an alphabet which hadn’t been found in any sources more recent than two thousand years old, and even then it appeared only in the most formal sources, accompanied by more recent lettering. The prevailing thought was that it was archaic even then, used only by the elite and academics out of a sense of tradition. She suspected that there was some spell of another that would have been able to narrow down the date, but the mere suggestion had nearly sent the scholar into an apoplectic fit, ranting about the risk of damaging the ancient vellum, and that the only reason she was allowed to levitate it was that it was the least destructive means of transporting the scroll. She had let the subject drop, knowing that while her status as the Princess’s “most faithful student” gave her certain privileges within the high security sections of the archives, those privileges mattered less and less the older the text in question was. Besides which, after four months without any success, Twilight Sparkle hadn’t expected much of the scroll in question, anticipating yet another dead end in her research.

Two months had passed since that day. Looking back, she had briefly considered another jaunt through time, just so she could have gone back to that moment and slapped herself for even thinking of risking the fragile document, causality be damned. She turned away from the scroll for a moment to breath, looking across the pillars of texts she had needed to translate the text. Each of the five stacks stood a full head taller than her, and even with all of those sources, the translation was imperfect, incomplete. But the key portions of the scroll before her had been finished at last, and she allowed herself to smile broadly, as broadly as she had during her first day with the scroll, when she made her first breakthrough with it. She had only had two texts at that point, helpfully provided by the linguist after he had calmed down, and she had begun to skim the document, looking for one key phrase. Even that simple action had taken an inordinate amount of time, as she carefully compared the flowing script on the parchment with the more sanitized samples from the reference texts. Part of her mind chastised her decidedly unscholarly approach to the process, arguing that merely searching for that one phrase ran the risk of missing some subtle nuisance of language, or that perhaps that phrase hadn’t existed when the scroll was written, and what she was looking for was described differently and that she had already missed it. That part of her mind promptly quieted down when, at the end of the third paragraph, her eyes settled on that phrase.

Three simple words. Three simple words which would necessitate the thorough reading of the thousands of other words contained on the scroll. Three simple words which would necessitate spending every spare moment she could afford to be away from Ponyville sequestered away in the deepest vault of the Canterlot archives, painstakingly translating the ancient scroll into modern Equestrian. Three simple words that forced her to go over those first three paragraphs again, carefully this time, the beginning of the current pillars of texts besides her forming as she cross-referenced the words before her with other sources. Three simple words.

“Elements of Harmony.”

****

Now, she sat in the back of one of the royal chariots, pulled by a pair of white pegasi, each clad in the golden armor of Celestia’s royal guard. The Princess had been gracious enough to lend them to her most faithful student for the unicorn’s return trip to Ponyville, though the alicorn had been openly disappointed that Twilight was leaving so suddenly. The unicorn’s resolve had nearly faltered when she had seen the sadness blemish her mentor’s timeless features, every ounce of willpower she could muster barely restraining the urge to wrap her hooves around the Princess in a great hug, apologize for the lies and deceit, and admit what she’d been pursuing in secret for the preceding six months. ‘But you didn’t,’ a small voice whispered to her. ‘You lied, again, to Princess Celestia, right to her face, and told her you had to rush back to Ponyville because of a “situation” that had come up.’ The mare shook her head, trying to dispel the sense of sorrow that weighed down on her. ‘You’ve betrayed her trust in you, her “most faithful student,” and you can’t talk to her without lying through your teeth. It’s a good thing you aren’t Loyalty or Honesty, or this entire endeavor would be pretty ironic,’ the voice, which Twilight had decided must be her conscience, continued, going over an argument she’d used against herself more times than she cared to count in the last few months. She had come to view the short denunciation as her penance for lying to her teacher, her friends, even her family on the few occasions that Shining Armor had asked about her pet project. ‘And let’s not forget about Generousity. You’ve been focusing on your own project at the expense of both of the Princesses, not to mention your friends. How many times have AJ and Rarity asked for your help with something, only for you to beg off? How about Fluttershy? And you’ve blown off…how many of Pinkie’s parties, now? Twelve? I mean, sure, she throws them at the drop of a hat…but then, you actually went to the Hat Dropping party, so maybe that’s a bad example.’ Her conscience laughed at that, snapping Twilight from her reverie. That was…new. Since her inner compass had started lecturing her, it had always been the same speech, highlighting her failure to match two of her friend’s Elements, her duplicity towards the Royal Sisters, and its tone was so serious, so focused, so…her. Her friends, and a third Element, hadn’t been subjects her subconscious had used in its invective…and she had never, ever laughed.

Twilight recognized the tone of that laugh, though she’d never before heard it flavored with her voice. That laugh hadn’t been a bitter laugh of sorrow, a laugh forced through disappointment, even a laugh of amusement from her subconscious at the expense of her conscious mind. It had been the laughter of cruelty, as her conscience had stepped in to kick her while she was down. She sunk low into the well of the chariot, repeating to herself that it would all be over soon, trying to convince herself that the Princesses would understand her motives for keeping them both in the dark. She barely heard when one of the guards looked back over his shoulder, shouting over the rushing wind that they’d be reaching Ponyville momentarily. The unicorn sat up, nodding, as she prepared herself to meet with her friends, hoping that the pegasus hadn’t noticed when the wind caught a single tear, whisked away as the Element of Magic forced her mouth into a smile.

****

The five mares sat patiently in the main room of the Ponyville Library, waiting for Twilight’s arrival. Well, technically, three mares sat patiently. Rainbow Dash, as was her habit, was perched atop one of the bookcases, watching the door, resembling nothing quite so much as a rainbow colored falcon, anxiously awaiting the appearance of its prey, and Pinkie, of course, had no concept of “patience,” though her exuberance was at least confined to a constant quiver and the occasional nervous giggle. Twilight had sent a note ahead through Spike, the relative sloppiness of her handwriting betraying her excitement about something, but she had provided no details, merely requesting that her five friends were waiting together when she returned from her latest trip to Canterlot. So, they waited, each privately wondering what the lavender mare was so anxious to tell them which couldn’t simply be explained in a letter.

“Maybe she’s getting married?” Pinkie finally blurted out, able to control herself no longer. The others all looked her, briefly considering the possibility that their bookish friend had been vanishing off to Canterlot for a series of romantic rendezvous with some stallion (or, as four of them mentally allowed, mare) she had met at her brother’s wedding. The timing was just about right, as her mysterious trips beginning two weeks after that hectic day. And she had been particularly secretive about what she was doing two days out of every week. Finally, Rarity shook her head.

“I rather doubt it, Pinkie. After all, this IS Twilight we’re talking about. If she’d been seeing someone, I doubt she’d have been able to keep it a secret from all of us,” she said, before adding with a slightly catty chuckle, “if only because she’d have asked one of us for instructions on dating.” A mildly troubling thought crossed her mind. “She hasn’t, has she? Asked any of you? Or tried to find a book on it, Spike?” As she was answered with a chorus of no’s, she nodded, returning to the tea Spike had offered them. “Well, there you are, she probably isn’t seeing anypo-”

The door flew inward, slamming noisily against the wall as Twilight trotted into the library, smiling broadly as she confirmed that her friends were all in attendance. The recoil from the door striking the wall was enough that it rebounded closed, clicking shut again just as the unicorn’s tail cleared its path. Spike shook his head, having been forced to endure the constant din of wood-on-wood while Twilight had been practicing that particular entrance, not to mention the colorful vocal outbursts on the earlier attempts that had seen the door’s rebound catching her on the flank or, in a particularly poorly planned practice prance, square in the face. The cost of so much time spent among royalty, he had reasoned - an acquired taste for dramatic entrances. As her friends all opened their mouths to speak, Twilight held up a forehoof. “One second, girls,” she said, her tone clearly making it a command, not a request. The lavender unicorn then closed her eyes, her horn flaring into a brilliant, almost painfully bright, violet aura. The glow continued to grow in strength, forcing all present to look away, save Pinkie, who had apparently added “sunglasses” to the list of emergency provisions she had squirreled away throughout the town, allowing her to produce a pair from beneath an end table.

The seconds ticked by as heat began to accompany the ever expanding sphere of purple energy, the temperature swiftly rising from the slight, almost pleasant chill of a brisk autumn afternoon to the heat of high noon in Appleloosan summer. The air around the unicorn’s horn began to hiss with the sound of dust being burnt away by the intense heat, and despite the effort of focusing that much power, Twilight’s brow was devoid of sweat, the moisture evaporating as quickly as it could form. Still, she focused every last bit of her power on the spell, giving it her full attention, not noticing that she was forgetting to breath. She held the power within her horn as long as she was able, until she smelt the acrid stench of her own coat beginning to singe, a smell she was not entirely unaccustomed to from past experiments with vastly powerful magic. With one final mental push, she released the spell, falling the her knees as a wave of energy pulsing out, covering every surface within the library with a shimmering midnight blue light, the light’s passage accompanied by a soft, wordless whisper, interspersed with the unicorn’s labored breathing. Fluttershy tentatively uncurled from fetal position she had assumed, shivering as the temperature dropped lower than it had been before the unicorn’s spell work. “Is…is it safe now?” the pegasus asked, her voice a gentle squeak, trying desperately to ignore that her breath had formed into mist as she spoke.

“Well, sugar cube, ah reckon that depends,” Applejack drawled, cautiously, “if you consider it “safe” that Twi looks ta have sent us up to tha moon.” She walked towards the nearest window, and looked out, seeing nothing beyond but an expanse of flat, empty white land and, from what she could she, empty, black sky. At the earth pony’s pronouncement, the yellow pegasus ducked her head back beneath her hind legs and covered herself with her wings, whimpering to herself, while the others turned to stare, wide-eyed, at their friend.

“We…aren’t…on the moon,” Twilight said as she shakily stood, still trying to catch her breath. The spell had been more taxing than she had anticipated, and it had never crossed her mind that the sheer amount of focus required would somehow distract her body from otherwise involuntary actions. She shuddered as she imagined what could have happened if she’d passed out, and the accumulated power had discharged wildly. Looking at the Fluttershy’s shaking form on the floor, she decided not to voice those particular concerns. “Sorry…for startling everypony. It’s called the “Our Own Little World” spell…it’s meant to provide…privacy,” she explained, glossing over what particular type of action that privacy was usually meant to protect. Judging from the slight smirk and knowing glance Rarity was currently directing at her, the white unicorn knew exactly what the spell had been designed for. “It stops anypony from eavesdropping, or looking into the protected space, and also creates an illusion to keep the…participants from getting…distracted by outside stimuli,” she continued, desperately hoping that her less magically inclined friends would simply accept her description without developing a sudden interest in the origins and intended purpose of the spell in question. Or, even worse, developing a sudden interest in why she had decided to learn it, as the violet mare doubted she could lie convincingly enough to fool Pinkie, let alone Applejack.

Taking a moment to finish catching her breath, she levitated the saddle bags from her back, setting them next to the warded door, and smiled at Spike as her assistant brought over a burgundy velvet pillow for her to sit on…the smile freezing in place as Rarity began to speak. “Twilight, darling, I’m sorry, but I simply have to ask,” the mare began, and Twilight felt her eyelid twitch, briefly wondering how suspicious it would be to supernaturally gag the other unicorn, rather than let her finish her thought. “But that spell you cast…oh, forgive me, dear, but…I was under the impression it was a fairly simple spell. I mean, even I myself have cas-…caught wind of any number of unicorns whom can perform it without issue, and they’re nowhere near your abilities.” It was Twilight’s turn to smirk knowingly, easily catching the fashionista’s near slip. She relaxed, feeling assured that Rarity wouldn’t reveal any of the spell’s particulars, not if it meant implicating herself in the practice of those particulars. Unfortunately, that bit of protection did nothing to alter the sad truth that the designer’s unfortunate, intimate knowledge of the enchantment left Twilight to explain a slightly less embarrassing, slightly more controversial secret.

She slowly stepped onto the pillow, trying to gather her thoughts, acutely aware of eleven eyes fixed on her, Fluttershy half-peeking from behind her wing. As the unicorn tucked her forelegs beneath her body, she mentally shook her head, dismissing the notion that she could lie to the others about the issue at hand, even by omission. ‘Of course’, her conscience argued, ‘you’ve already done that, since you left out the specifics of the spell’s purpose.’ She narrowed her eyes, frowning at the thought. ‘Really? Did you really want to explain to all of them what that spell does? We don’t really have time to deal with that particular discussion right now. It has nothing to do with my honesty, or lack thereof,’ she reminded herself, crossly, while wondering how ludicrous it was to be having an argument with her conscience. ‘Just saying. I mean, what’s to be embarrassed about? Not like you’ve even used the spell before…at least, not with anypony else around…’ the little voice taunted. The purple mare blushed, wondering where that had come from. Commentary on her morality, she had come to expect over the past months, but she’d never been so hard on herself on a personal level. ‘I don’t know, seems you were pretty hard on yourself the last time. Left a bit of a bruise, didn’t you?’ she cracked, mockingly. ‘T…that’s enough out of you! I’m a national hero, the personal apprentice to the Princess, the most powerful unicorn in the known world, and my facial features conform to a traditional, objective standard of beauty! Fame, prestige, power, and beauty! I could get practically any stallion I wanted!’ she mentally shouted back at the cruel part of her psyche, trying to hide her embarrassment behind false bravado. ‘Oh, I’m sure you could get plenty of stallions,’ she whispered to herself, the cruel impulse’s tone changing to a throaty whisper, if that could be properly applied to an entity without a throat, and Twilight was sure she could hear the smirk her subconscious was wearing, before it demonstrated why trying to argue with yourself was a terrible idea. ‘If you put half as much effort into finding a stallion, as you have into this little project, you could probably have a whole herd of them by now. But this isn’t about finding a stallion, is it? All this work, just so she’ll look at you the way you look at her…’

Stunned by the venom in her own words, Twilight blinked, her reverie broken as she realized that her friends were still waiting for an explanation, and were currently staring at a pony whose face was a mix of shock, acute embarrassment, and heartache, all for no discernible reason. “Twi…you alright there, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, the farmer’s face marked with the same honest concern as the others, mixed with a slight hint of fear. Even Pinkie’s near perpetual smile was gone, replaced with a look of genuine worry.

She coughed, shaking her head to clear away the last echoes of her own insult, before she fixed a smile on her lips. “Oh, yeah, Applejack…I’m fine, really. Just…still a bit shaken from what I’ve been working on, and the spell,” she answered, and she thought she heard a faint laugh ring in her ears as the lie passed her lips. She suddenly wondering if the voice really was merely her conscience, or if the stress she was putting herself through was having a more profound effect on her, and made a mental note to find some books on psychology.. Later, after her friend’s had left. “And Rarity…yes, usually the spell I cast is simple enough to be used by just about any unicorn. I’m not surprised you’ve…heard of it being cast,” she explained, indulging her own little playful smirk as the dressmaker’s cheeks flushed slightly, though the wink indicated she’d taken the comment as it had been meant – in jest. “The difference is, usually the spell is only designed to stop ponies from overhearing whoever’s within the warded space, or peeking in. The version I cast is…quite a bit more powerful than that, which is why it took so much more effort on my part.”

There was a beat, and she briefly hoped that nopony would ask the next question in the progression. She had still kept her promise not to lie, either directly or by leaving out a key detail. After all, the question had been why the spell was so hard for her to cast, not…

“What does the spell protect against now, Twilight? Who could be watching you, or us, that would need so much power to block?” Spike asked, and the mare that had facilitated his hatching had to struggle to keep her head from slumping forward in defeat. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath as she prepared for the worst.

“About that…well, as for the first question, it now also provides a barrier against scrying, teleportation, pre-placed surveillance spells, and pretty much any other kind of magical observation,” she began, getting the easy part out of the way first. Another brief pause elapsed, as she seriously considered omitting the last tiny detail of the spell’s protection, but as the thought crossed her mind, she heard that faint, taunting laughter again, and any possibility of breaking her promise to herself was forgotten. She refused to let…well, herself, technically, have the last laugh. ‘Seriously, psychology texts. Right after this. Maybe even go see a doctor’ she thought, grimly, shuddering as she remembered the fiasco the last time she had been put herself under so much stress. The town had narrowly averted disaster, and almost everypony had forgiven her, but Big Macintosh still hadn’t said more than two words to her since he’d grudgingly returned her doll. “As for the who…well…if I calculated right…then nopony in Equestria should be able to penetrate the warding field.” The unicorn smiled at each of her friends in turn, trying to look reassuring, while inwardly chanting ‘Still not a lie, still not a lie, still not a lie…’

“Wow…nopony? So not even the Princesses can see us right now?” Pinkie asked as Twilight’s eyes met the earth pony’s. She briefly considered screaming, deciding against it only because Fluttershy had just finished uncurling herself, an apologetic smile on the timid mare’s face, and Twilight didn’t have the heart to so callously send the pegasus back into her defensive curl. Regrettably, that same desire to spare her yellow friend also precluded her from setting the library on fire, making herself explode, or any of the other possible diversions that jumped to mind, to keep from answering the final question.

“That’s…kind of the thing, Pinkie. It’s not so much that ‘not even the Princesses’ can watch us right now, as it is ‘the Princesses in particular, above all others’ can’t see us right now.” There was a short interlude of stunned silence, as her friends simply stared at the librarian, and she allowed herself to hope that they might take that revelation well, and not jump to any conclusions before she could explain.

Technically, she reflected once that final hope was shattered, none of them jumped to conclusions. She felt that it would be far more accurate to describe the response of the other five ponies, and one dragon, currently in the library as a high speed dynamic entry to conclusions.

****

Within one of the many towers in Canterlot Castle, two powerful beings sat in a private room. The room was not large, but neither was it small; twenty ponies or so could be seated within with space to spare, and slightly taller than it was wide at the highest point. The entire chamber had been formed from flawless marble, the floor of purest white joined seamlessly to the walls which gradually shifted through the shades of grey until they matched the midnight black of the domed ceiling, a stylized image of the golden sun and silver moon intertwined in peace at its center. No windows broke the plane of the walls, and the door leading back to the rest of the palace had been enchanted to blend perfectly into the wall while closed. The only furnishing was a plain table of ancient oak, with a single bowl of fruit placed atop it. The space was softly lit, though that light had no obvious source, seeming instead to suffuse the air itself, never allowing a shadow to be cast. By royal decree, the room was off-limits to all but the two beings who now occupied it, and a single maid, who dusted and replenished the fruit once per day, and delivered anything the room’s occupants required. Multiple layers of powerful protective magic ensured that that decree was obeyed, and it required the combined blessing of both princesses to allow passage through those protections. The Chamber of Dawn and Dusk was one of the few true sanctuaries for the Royal Alicorn Sisters, a room of serenity and balance, where they would retreat to discuss matters of policy, threats to the kingdom…and, on this occasion, the actions of a certain pale purple unicorn.

Celestia sighed to herself contentedly as she eventually let the aura around her horn fade, done probing the wards her student had placed around the Ponyville library. She was pleased, and, if she was being honest with herself, more than a little surprised that the young unicorn’s spell was able to withstand her efforts to scry through it. She looked across the small tower chamber at her younger sister, Luna’s eyes fluttering open as her own magic faded away. “Any luck on your part, sister?” she asked with a slight smile, already aware of the answer before the Princess of the Night shook her head, her ethereal mane shimmering as it moved.

“No, Tia, we - that is, I had no more luck than you did. Twilight Sparkle must be commended for her skill in weaving Night’s Embrace,” the younger alicorn said, genuinely impressed with the young unicorn’s control over the spell. “Though, you might want to warn her to pay more careful attention to the windows, next time she tries. I was unable to fully pierce the wards, but I was able to obtain certain general impressions about the warded space. If my young friend truly needed to ward off a foe as powerful as we two, then that bit of information might tilt the scales against her.”

“Ponies these days tend to call it the ‘Our Own Little World’ spell, Luna, not ‘Night’s Embrace.’ And I think Twilight is probably the first to use it the way you intended it to be used in…centuries, at the least. Too little need for clandestine military strongholds these days, as opposed to…other sorts of clandestine activities.” The older sister chuckled, watching her little sister’s face screw up in confusion. “You see, Luna, when two ponies love each other very much…or three ponies, or a dozen…” Celestia began, before ducking out of the way of a telekinetically thrown pear, her chuckles growing into full laughter at the bright crimson blush contrasting against her sister’s midnight blue coat. “In any case…let’s be honest. If we really wanted to see what was going on, we have any number of artifacts tucked away that could shred my dear student’s protection to ribbons. Or we could just pool our strength and pierce it without having to even worry about finding one of them.”

“Now, now, if you’re going to lay down these rules for our little game, you have to abide by them,” Luna playfully chided, retrieving the thrown pear with her magic, turning it end over end as she considered eating it. “Your student doesn’t know about those particular toys you have, nor is she aware of our…special abilities. It simply wouldn’t be sporting of us to use them to make her fail a test. Even if she isn’t aware she’s being tested.” Deciding she wasn’t hungry after all, Luna set the pear back in the bowl, nestling it against the curve of a banana. She looked up at the Solar Princess, her mirth temporarily forgotten. “She was crying as she left, you know. Again.” There was no accusation in her words, simply bare fact. Luna considered the young mare a friend, if not as close a friend as she might have wished, and it pained her to see the unicorn in distress. Twilight was still her sister’s protégé, though, and she respected the older alicorn enough not to challenge her methods.

Slowly, the smile faded from Celestia’s lips, and she rested her head on the table. She knew her sister spoke the truth, and, if she were to be honest, it pained her far more than it did her sister to see her student in such misery. “It nearly kills me to do it, Luna. It truly does. It pains me to see her so anxious to leave, regardless of the other issues at hand. I may not show it often, but I do miss her time spent in residence at the palace.” She allowed herself a soft smile. “If her departure hadn’t also been marked by your return, I doubt I would have allowed it in the first place. But I must keep my priorities straight.” The darker alicorn returned the smile. She had heard the sentiment before, but it was always nice to be reminded of her sister’s love for her. “Still…I have to balance my personal feelings against what’s at stake. You know as well as I the potential consequences if we helped her, and she found out the truth. Nor can we forbid her research…you know what Twilight can be like, once she sets her mind to something.” Celestia sighed, facing one of those rare moments when she truly felt her immense age. “Better we let her exhaust herself following the trails we’ve planted over the years, and hope she eventually gives up on her own. Otherwise…I’ll manufacture a crisis, if it comes to it. Something just threatening enough to distract her, but that the Elements can resolve easily enough that the research won’t seem worth the effort.” The elder sister closed her eyes, once more envious of her little ponies and the comfort they drew by invoking her name in their prayers, a comfort denied to her.

The two alicorns sat in silence for several minutes, Celestia considering how best to handle the potential consequences of her student’s search, while Luna waited, her own mind considering a far more frightening possibility. The possibility that, despite all of the false trails she and her sister had left behind over the ages, preparing for just such an eventuality, Twilight Sparkle wouldn’t need to accept that the research was hopeless.

Luna, Princess of the Moon, Goddess of the Night and Dreams, the second most powerful being in all of Equestria…feared what would happen if the young lavender unicorn succeeded.

****

To the extent that Twilight had wanted her friends all on the same page after she explained herself, she was forced to call her little meeting a rousing success. The other five Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, as well as Spike, were all very much on the same page. The problem at present was that the page they were on wasn’t merely different from the one Twilight herself was on, but that it was in a completely different book. And possibly another language entirely. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected her friends to take the revelation that she was hiding them from the Princesses in particular particularly well. She had expected confusion from Spike, histrionics from Rarity, whimpering from Fluttershy, shouting from Dash and Applejack, and…Pinkie-Pieing from Pinkie. But she had at least expected a chance to explain herself, to explain why she was hiding them from the Royal Sisters.

Thus, she had been completely unprepared when Dash had suddenly launched herself from her perch, the pegasus’ head striking her square in the chest, the force of the blow knocking her onto her back, forcing the air from her lungs before her head struck the bare wooden floor. While she had been dazed, Applejack had produced a length of rope, seemingly from nowhere, and lassoed Twilight’s legs, the rough cord biting painfully into her flesh as she was pulled into the center of the room. She tried to reach out and sever the rope with a simple burst of magic, only to find a mental barrier blocking her power from being channeled past her horn. In disbelief, she flicked her eyes up, seeing the tip of her horn enveloped in a pale blue glow, before she quickly cast her gaze towards Rarity. Sure enough, the white unicorn’s horn was bathed in that same glow, the dressmaker’s brow furrowed in concentration. Despite herself, Twilight was impressed that her friend even knew a binding hex, though she would have rather found at in different circumstances. A quick mental push confirmed that her friend’s cantrip was weak enough for the more experienced magician to shatter with the proper counter-spell…a counter-spell which was designed to harm the attacker. On the one occasion she had successfully used it during her training, the spell had generated a backlash powerful enough to momentarily paralyze Princess Celestia’s right legs and wing, despite multiple layers of protective charms. Against an unwarded opponent, especially one so much weaker than her, the backlash had the potential to be significantly more dangerous, if not fatal.

Unwilling to risk her friend’s life over a misunderstanding, she tried to smile reassuringly, though the growing sense of fear made it difficult. “Girls...I can explain everything, really, I promise, so…do you think you could maybe, you know, let me go?” she asked, trying to keep the edge of panic from her voice. A quick glance at her friends’ faces, at the stares of barely-contained fury being trained on her, seemed to indicate that “release” was rather low on the list of options. She swallowed loudly as Pinkie aimed the party cannon at the bound unicorn’s head, not even bothering to wonder where the earth pony had hidden that bit of equipment away. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry for lying to you, but I can’t let the Princesses know about this yet, becaumpf,” she began to explain, until she was interrupted by a pale yellow hoof being inserted into her mouth. The leg that hoof was attached to then swiftly pressed down, slamming her head once more against the floor, and forcing Twilight Sparkle to face what may well have been the most frightening visage she had ever beheld.

Fluttershy looked down at her friend, her earlier fear forgotten, the pegasus’ normally timid features twisted into a scowl that carried the force of a physical blow. Her long mane hung forward, partially blocking the light, shadows dancing across the mare’s face. The worst of it, though, were the eyes. When Twilight had looked at her other friends, she had seen the anger, felt it in their stares, but it had been tempered, if only barely. Whatever else could be said about them, they were in control of themselves. But as the purple unicorn was forced to look up into Fluttershy’s eyes…there was no restraint, no control. The yellow pegasus, the most reserved, most understanding of her friends, the pony who could see the good in any living creature, the pony who had been so pure-hearted that even the Spirit of Chaos had been unable to corrupt her save through brute force, looked down on her with unbridled hatred in her eyes. The worst of it, though, was that Fluttershy wasn’t simply staring down at Twilight with those hate-filled eyes. The captive mare flinched as she felt the Stare brought to bear against her, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the cockatrice that had once petrified her. “Now, listen very carefully, because if I have to repeat myself, you won’t like the consequences,” the pegasus said slowly, her voice strained with the struggle to keep her emotions in check. “When I take my hoof from your mouth, you’re going to tell us what you did to our friend Twilight, and how we can get her back, or else…”

‘A changeling?’ Twilight thought, the pieces finally falling into place. ‘Of course, they think I’m a changeling, that’s why they’re reacting like this. I’ve been acting so strangely, and now I want to hide things from the Princesses, and the timing was just about right, and this all makes sense, but…’ Fluttershy chose that moment to pull her hoof from Twilight’s mouth, and in her panic her train of thought concluded verbally. “I’m not a changeling!”

“Wrong answer.” The pegasus reared back on her hind legs, brought her forehooves together, and shifted her full weight forward, driving her hooves down into Twilight’s chest, directly between her shoulders. “Where is Twilight Sparkle!” the pegasus screamed, tears in her eyes, as a the unicorn howled of pain. The small corner of her mind that retained the capacity for coherent thought was grateful that Fluttershy had struck her, recognizing that if Rarity, Applejack, or Pinkie, with their heavier bone structure, had struck her with that much force, the blow would have almost certainly been fatal. That realization was, unfortunately, lost within a storm of pain and panic as her survival instincts triggered. Her friends all thought she was a monstrous spy that was holding the “real” her someplace, and the gentlest of them had decided that the best course of action was to beat the location out of her. “Once you ask twice, no need to be nice!” Fluttershy shouted as she brought her hooves up for a second strike. Twilight closed her eyes and braced herself as best as she could, the tight pull of the rope precluding any attempt to dodge. Worried her luck might not hold, and that she might be about to draw her final breath, she uttered a quick prayer to both Princesses, apologizing for deceiving them. She heard a loud crack, followed by the sound of hooves impacting against an unforgiving surface…wait, that wasn’t right. Her eyes flew open, her neck craning back to see Fluttershy covered in streamers, confetti slowly falling across the library.

“Rarity, she’s doing that angry-rhyming-thing again!” Pinkie pointed out, thankful that the party cannon apparently had enough force to stagger her yellow friend without doing any visible harm. The white unicorn nodded grimly, and wrapped the pegasus in a telekinetic field, lifting her into the air while Applejack and Rainbow Dash exchanged confused glances. “Long story, we’ll tell you later,” Pinkie offered cryptically before she turned the cannon’s muzzle back towards the captive.

When she was younger, Twilight had asked the Princess a question about prayer, after she had heard her father curse in the Princess’ name after a large book had fallen on his head. Celestia had smiled that impenetrable smile of hers, and had told her student that as a divine being, she was vaguely aware of it when anypony invoked her name, either in a prayer, an oath, or a curse. In situations where they particularly meant it, she could even, if she chose, view the circumstances of the invocation, a privilege she claimed to use during periods of boredom at Court, usually to watch weddings or, as she had delicately put it, “peak in on overly excitable young lovers.” She had chuckled at that, though her student hadn’t understood why at the time. She had been very clear, however, that she didn’t have any innate power to act upon those prayers, beyond how she could react to any other news that reached her. “I’m not that kind of Goddess” had been her vague explanation, and no amount of wheedling on her student’s part had produced any more details. With the alicorn’s agreement, she had conditioned herself, over the years, to avoid using the Princess’s name as anything other than a name. Only once before had she broken that conditioning, when while gathering magical reagents, she had become lost in the forests outside of Canterlot, and fallen into a deep trench, dislocating her shoulder. As night had fallen, she had prayed for Celestia to send help; three pegasi guards had arrived twenty minutes later, sent on the Princess’s orders. No supernatural response, no contrived means of rescue. She had called for help, and the Princess sent help.

Based on that experience, then, she hadn’t expected anything to come of her second attempt at prayer. Indeed, she had fully expected that her warding spell would block even that powerful a means of communication. She had tried only on the off chance it would penetrate the ward, so that it could serve as a final good-bye to her mentor. Instead, against all logic, against everything the Princess had told her, it seemed that her prayer had, somehow, been answered. With Rarity’s concentration partially diverted to holding their enraged friend above the ground, Twilight felt the ward sealing her magic weaken. Exploiting that distraction, she wielded her magic with all the grace of a sledgehammer, shattering the mental barrier with the raw force of her innate power. The white unicorn flinched as her magic rebounded, falling hard on her rump as her hind legs gave out from underneath her. Without the magical field keeping her suspended, Fluttershy joined Rarity on the floor a second later, landing with a pained squeak in an unceremonious heap. Twilight winced in sympathy, sorry that she’d had to hurt her friends, despite their misguided actions. ‘Oh, yes. Telling the truth is working out so much better than leaving out a few key details. That might have just hurt them emotionally, if they ever found out. Physical pain is definitely preferable to that.’ She winced again, unable to deny the truth of her own statement, before a sharp pull on her legs brought her attention back to the moment, Applejack tugging on the rope to keep her bound as Rarity slowly climbed back to her feet.

Recognizing she might not get a second opportunity, Twilight’s horn flared with reddish-purple light as she channeled two distinct spells at once, the rope binding her dissolving into mist as a protective bubble formed around her, a blast of steamers and confetti bouncing harmlessly off the mystic shell. Confident in the barrier’s ability to hold off her friends, at least in the short term, the purple mare tapped into her repertoire of healing spells…all three of them. The downside of being personally trained by an immortal being, she supposed, was that restorative magic was something of a low priority for such an entity. Twilight called upon the only recovery spell Celestia had taught her, an antiquated technique that channeled the magic directly from her body, healing from within, instead of focusing the energy through the horn and than directing it towards the injury. As a consequence, it was impossible to use to heal another pony, but required far less concentration and effort than the types of spells she had seen unicorn physicians cast.

She took a deep, calming breath while her injuries mended, her mind drifting as the energy flowing through her had a sedating effect, masking the pain of the unnatural speed of her recovery. Another downside to the method the Princess had shown her, she reflected, since the sedation precluded the spell’s use in combat. She had asked, after she had recovered from the soporific effect for the first time, why a technique with such limiting flaws existed. “Because,” the alicorn had answered, gazing towards her sun, her normally serene voice tinged with sorrow, “since it doesn’t need a horn, anypony could be taught to cast it.” She had dismissed the young unicorn for the day after that cryptic comment, and the only other time the Princess mentioned the spell was the next day, when she asked Twilight to keep the spell a secret, and to never speak of it. The filly’s heart had leapt at the words, still young enough that the prospect of sharing a secret with the Solar Princess outweighed the pursuit of knowledge, eagerly agreeing as she basked in the goddess’ gentle smile. She had kept her promise, perhaps too zealously, almost completely avoiding any study of healing magic, other than a charm to suppress headaches, learned through narrow eyes after a particularly late night studying left her with an especially excruciating migraine, and a spell all unicorns were taught once they reached the “proper” age. She had been thankful she’d been taught that spell at home. As uncomfortable as she’d been while her mother had demonstrated how to properly activate the charm, the prospect of a goddess giving her that kind of instruction was mortifying. ‘Oh, does “mortifying” means “exciting” now? Or has your body just missed a memo somewhere? Unless you’re just reacting to your dear friends trying to tie you up. Wonder what those psychology books you keep threatening to find would say about that?’

Twilight’s eyes sprang open, the spell-induced tranquility dissipated by her subconscious’ vulgar comment. Her chest still ached with pain, the spell interrupted with its work unfinished, but it was the dull ache of an old bruise, rather than the sharp pain she had felt before the curtailed healing. She could breathe without flinching, though, so she looked out beyond the barrier. To her slight surprise, Applejack and Rarity were working together, the earth pony bucking against the shield rhythmically, the unicorn sending pulses of raw magic as she recovered her stance. Twilight had to give the white mare credit; she had severely underestimated Rarity’s knowledge of combat magic. Nonetheless, the designer was still massively outclassed by the royal protégée, and Applejack’s kicks, for all their physical power, may as well have been thrown pillows against the supernatural construct, though Twilight did take a moment to reinforce the barricade, just to be safe. Turning slightly, she saw Fluttershy crying softly. The purple unicorn would have been concerned that her yellow friend had been hurt in her fall, except that Pinkie had her locked in a hug and was smiling reassuringly at the pegasus while Rainbow Dash sat on her other side, looking bored, not anxious. She reasoned that the timid mare was simply coming down off the rush of adrenaline that had left her violently assertive. That only left the question of Spike’s whereabouts…a question answered as her assistant ran out of the kitchen, throwing the burning parchment to the floor and stamping it out.

“No luck, girls. That’s the third scroll I’ve tried to send, and they’ve all just caught fire,” the young dragon announced, his voice muffled slightly by the barrier. “Looks like whatever spell that thing cast to trap us in here must be blocking my sending fire, too.” Twilight sighed to herself, at a loss for a way to convince them she wasn’t a changeling. Regrettably, her brother and Cadence had scattered the invasion force far and wide after the attack, and without a live subject to test on, there’d been no solid progress towards either detecting them, or neutralizing whatever allowed them to disguise themselves. That was ignoring the issue of her friends believing the results of a changeling detection spell cast by the changeling they were detecting, even if the magic had been available. Unless she wanted to forcibly pacify her friends, there was only option for her to take. She just wished that that option wasn’t quite so…cliché.

She stomped down on the hardwood floor with her fore hooves, the sound loud enough to draw all attention in the room to her, even through the shield. Ignoring the angry glares, she turned towards Rainbow Dash, locking eyes with the cerulean mare. “Dash, I’m sorry, but…Daring Do Explores the Velvet Chasms, by Brain Shadow,” she said, simply, and allowed herself a slight smile as the blood visibly drained from the pegasus’ face. Her friend had accidentally included that “book” when she had returned several other Daring Do novels months before. Curious, Twilight had made it halfway through the loose sheaf of pages before Dash had crashed through her bedroom window in a panic, snatched up the manuscript, and flown off without a word. The unicorn had sat on her bed, legs tucked comfortably under the seats, her brain trying to confirm that yes, that had indeed happened. She was still dazed when the Pegasus returned several minutes later, sans pages, and begging Twilight not to tell anyone about what she had been reading. Twilight had agreed, and Dash had immediately bolted off, leaving her friend to wonder why the pegasus was so upset. Honestly, she was just thrilled the tomboyish mare was reading anything, Dash could have been reading Foalita for all the unicorn would have cared. She had made a mental note to talk to Rainbow Dash, gently, about it…until her mind finally caught up, and she realized with a slight smile why her friend would be embarrassed if it got out that something like that had been written by one Brain Shadow.

She had no intention of revealing any of those details to the others, of course. She had made a promise to a friend, and while she might bend her word, she wouldn’t break it. Especially considering how close Dash was to Pinkie; she didn’t know how the earth pony had managed to appear inside a mirror, but she wasn’t anxious to learn what else she might be capable of to avenge a broken promise on behalf of her fellow prankster. Regardless, the awkward specifics of the occasion weren’t terribly important. What was important was that Dash remember that the incident had occurred nearly two months before the royal wedding, and follow to the rational conclusion that only the real Twilight Sparkle would know about it, thus proving that she was the real Twilight Sparkle. All eyes were on the blue pegasus, almost literally in Pinkie’s case, the pink pony’s face pressed up against the side of Dash’s head, as they waited for an explanation. Swallowing loudly, she stared back at Twilight, and nodded at her lavender friend, before she finally spoke. “Everypony…I’m pretty sure that’s really Twilight.”

Chapter 2

Now that she had had a chance to be on both sides of it, Twilight had to admit how effective that particular tactic was. After Dash had explained what the purple unicorn had meant (in as little detail as possible, naturally), the others had almost immediately accepted the truth of Twilight’s identity. Applejack had held out briefly, contending that there could be two changeling imposters, until Dash had mentioned “the special pitchfork.” The orange earth pony’s cheek flushed as red as the apples in her cutie mark, and she had relented. Twilight had smirked at the brief exchange, guessing it had a similar significance to her own pronouncement, and released the protective barrier…only to be tackled, for the second time that day, by an emotional pegasus. Fluttershy had fairly launched herself at the lavender mare the instant the shield dropped, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rambled an apology to Twilight, begging the unicorn to forgive her, and not have the Princess banish her, then imprison her in the place of her banishment. The royal protégé had smiled softly and hugged her timid friend, assuring her, and by extension the others, that she understood their motive and wasn’t going to hold the…unpleasantries against any of them. With her free hoof, she had gestured for the others to join them, and the seven had shared a brief group hug.

Of course, while the issue of her identity had been resolved, there was still the matter she had gathered her friends for in the first place to deal with – the results of her research. And so, the six ponies once more found themselves seated in a rough circle, the party cannon once again stored…wherever it was Pinkie stored it, while Spike rummaged in the kitchen, fetching juice and snacks. Twilight took a moment to reinforce the privacy spell, quickly sealing a few minor flaws that had begun to develop in the ward. She hesitated as her mental probe passed the window in her bedroom; rather than a single fissure formed as the delicate magic pulled itself apart, she felt a spider’s web of tiny gaps, radiating from a central point. She shivered slightly as she repaired the cracks, recognizing them as the results of an attempt to pierce the spell. An exceedingly powerful attempt. Any pride she felt in the confirmation of her ability to ward against that kind of power was vastly outweighed by the realization that at least one Princess was aware of the spell, was aware she was hiding herself from their sight. She considered the merit of weaving a secondary enchantment into the first, to warn of further attacks against the barrier, dismissing it wearily. She’d already been forced to expend more of her magical reserves than she’d intended to, and it seemed she might not have time to let them replenish. She reluctantly released her hold on her magic, the light around her horn fading as she opened her eyes, smiling weakly at her friends.

Applejack was the first to break the silence, though the farmer found herself unable to meet the unicorn’s eyes. “Twi, I’ve gotta ask…if’n you aren’t a changeling, then why the hay are ya’ll hiding us from the Princesses? Not that it rightly excuses our behavior, but…you hafta admit it’s mighty suspicious.” The tactless question earned her a disapproving glower from Rarity, but Twilight merely shook her head.

“No, you’re right. I admit, I’ve been behaving strangely for months, keeping secrets, hiding things from all of you. If I’d been in your place, I would have been worried, too. And yeah, the idea of me wanting to hide something from the Princess is about as out of character as Dash wanting to go for a leisurely stroll, or Fluttershy building a bonfire out of bunnies,” she began, eliciting a groan of disgust and a squeal of terror, respectively, from the two pegasi. “You have to understand…sometimes, it feels like everything I’ve done since she made me her student, Princess Celestia has expected. Every spell I mastered, she smiled, and she nodded. Every test I passed, she smiled, and nodded. Every last success I’ve ever had, she’s smiled, and she’s nodded. And I know that isn’t something to be ashamed of. She’s a goddess, a literal goddess, and I can keep up with whatever she demands of me. It’s just…” she paused as she felt composure slipping, tears beginning to well up. ‘Just that she won’t acknowledge you as more than her student?’ she teased herself with a snicker. “Just that I’m tired of only being able to live up to her expectations,” she continued, pointedly ignoring her own cruelty. “Everypony is always going on about how clever I am, how much raw power I have, how much talent I have. I’ve done things no unicorn has done in centuries. I’ve bent time itself to my will! And she just smiles, and nods.” Twilight stomped her hoof against the hard wooden planks, as her friends stared at her, concern building. “The only times I ever see her shocked by something I’ve done is when I make a mistake, when I let her down. Like with Smartypants. Like with Chrysalis.” Her voice dropped lower, her eyes glistening as she struggled to hold back her pent-up frustration. ‘Now, now, what happened to telling your friends the whole truth? Let it all out, all that anger, all that pain. Let them see the real you…’ her inner voice cooed, sending chills down the unicorn’s spine. Though the words seemed kind enough for once, they were still tainted with the same malice she had come to expect from whatever dark corner of her mind that voice sprang from. Her friends all exchanged nervous glances; they may have been sure it was their friend sitting in front of them, but that didn’t necessarily make her any less dangerous. On reflection, a single changeling was far less of an immediate threat than a deranged Twilight Sparkle.

“Twilight, darling…I think I understand where you’re coming from, really, but…doesn’t this seem a teensy bit overdramatic? I mean, I’m certain the Princess is tremendously proud of all you’ve accomplished…” Rarity offered, trying to defuse the situation.

“Proud? Proud!” the other unicorn nearly shouted in response, the clotheshorse to recoiling instinctively. “I’m not concerned about her being proud of me. I already know she’s proud of me. She was proud of me when I reawakened the Elements of Harmony. She was proud of me when we sealed Discord. She had it all planned out. She has everything all planned out! She’s never surprised!” She punctuated the last word by slamming her forehooves into the floor, the hardwood dented by the impact. The sound of hoof against floor echoed in the silent library, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing as Twilight recovered from her unplanned rant while each of her friends considered an appropriate response to the unicorn’s outburst.

It was a foregone conclusion that a unanimous agreement on the appropriate response was impossible between the six of them, especially without time away from the emotional mare to discuss their options. Between five of them, there was an unspoken agreement that one response was absolutely not the appropriate one. It therefore came as a shock to none of them that Pinkie was of course the first to find her voice, having latched on to the last word in Twilight’s tirade. “Is that what this is all about? You want to surprise the Princess?” the pink pony asked, her head cocked to the side. Before Twilight had a chance to respond, or the others had a chance to react, Pinkie was upright, bouncing happily around the library, a huge grin on her face. “Oh, oh! We could throw her a big party! With presents, and pies, and cakes, and cherrychangas, and chimicherries, and cakes, and then after, when she goes back to her room, there could be another big cake with purple frosting and when she gets close to it you jump out and…” The description was cut short as Rainbow Dash grabbed her fellow prankster, putting a hoof over Pinkie’s mouth.

“Pinkie, I’m pretty sure that this whole thing isn’t just because Twilight wants to surprise Princess Celestia,” the pegasus deadpanned, looking at the others for support.

“Actually, Dash, Pinkie isn’t entirely wrong,” Twilight explained, her emotions reined in somewhat, though not enough to suppress a hint of a blush as the others gaped at the sudden revelation. “Not about the details, but the reason I’ve been so secretive lately is because I want to finally give the Princess a pleasant surprise. Well, both Princesses, I suppose,” she quickly clarified, her horn flaring to life as she used her telekinesis to pull the scroll from her saddlebags and levitated it to her. Even though it was a freshly-made translation of the original, and a copy at that, she still treated the document with care as she set it on the floor before her. “Girls…since the Elements of Harmony reawakened, and they attuned to us, what’s been the biggest problem with actually using them?” she asked, slipping into her lecture voice.

“Um…being able to find the necklaces when we need them?” Fluttershy suggested quietly. “Oh, and your…big crown, too, of course.” She amended, afraid Twilight might have been offended by not explicitly including the Element of Magic. The purple mare smiled softly at her yellow friend, and nodded.

“Exactly, Fluttershy. Discord managed to steal them out from under us, and the changeling army blocked our path to them. Obviously, everything worked out alright in the end, but I don’t think anyone would argue it would have been a lot easier if we could have turned Discord back into a statue without bothering with the hedge maze and…the associated issues,” she added, delicately. Fluttershy and Rarity had each told her, privately, that they still had occasional nightmares about the maze and their inverted personalities, and she suspected the others did as well. She felt is best not to dwell on the event. “And at the wedding, how much damage, both physical and emotional, could have been avoided if we’d been able to blast Queen Chrysalis on the spot, instead of having to try to reach the vault? Yes, the Elements are incredibly powerful magic artifacts, and considering how much stronger they seemed to be the second time we used them as opposed to the first, it seems like they grow stronger the closer the six of us become as friends. But none of that will do us any good if the next major threat strikes while we’re in Manehattan, or Baltimare, or does anything to cut off our access to Canterlot.” She took another breath, her emotional turmoil from earlier calming with each passing word as she hit her stride, watching carefully to ensure her friends were keeping up.

“Now, back after we rebound Discord, after the ceremony, something occurred to me. There are, obviously, six Elements of Harmony, and there are six of us. Each of us represents a different facet of the power of friendship, and the gemstones let us manifest that power in a form I can manipulate. That’s all they do, though; the necklaces amplify the power within each of you, and my tiara allows me to control it, but they don’t actually generate any power on their own. The Princess told me afterwards that was why Discord…attacked us, the way he did. If all he’d done was make us hate each other, but left our personalities intact, we still would have represented the elements, so the magic still would have worked, if not as well. She, uh, also told me that trying to have Spike wear the Loyalty necklace was…not one of my smartest ideas.” The purple mare coughed in embarrassment as she recalled that particular decision. “She described it as ‘six souls, one power,’ and that the focusing gems were specifically attuned to each of our spirits individually.”

“Hang on, sugarcube. If it takes ‘six souls’ to use tha Elements, then how in tha hay did the Princesses manage to beat Discord? There aren’t more sisters that went crazy and had to be banished, are there?”

“As far as I know, Applejack, no, there aren’t any other corrupted alicorns floating around. I asked the Princess that same question, and she said that she and Luna had used an ancient ritual that changed how the Elements functioned.” She paused, remembering the odd look in her mentor’s eyes when she had mentioned the spell. “It concentrated the underlying magic, making it so that two beings could wield all six aspects and, more importantly for us, wield them without the crystal foci. Before I could even ask, though, she told me that she couldn’t remember the spell, and that the original source had been lost in an accident. She told me not to worry about it, since she was going to reinforce the wards on the vault and add a failsafe spell so that the six of us could access it if…something happened to her and Luna. The immediate problem – Discord stealing the Elements from the vault – had been solved, and the Princess didn’t think it was worth my time to try to recover the old spell. And then…that certain incident we don’t talk about came up, and then I started helping Luna integrate into modern society, and everything was going well, and I didn’t really have time to spend on what might have been a spell lost completely to the ages. Besides, Canterlot seemed impregnable at the time, so finding a way to make the Elements less cumbersome was a bit of a low priority.” She allowed herself a happy, lopsided grin as she scanned her friends. “After all, I had a sacred duty to make sure they were as powerful as possible when we needed them, and if that meant I had to spend as time with my friends, well, that was a sacrifice I just had to make,” she added in an exaggeratedly serious tone, unable to keep the mirth from breaking through at the end.

“Yeah, yeah, Twilight. We love you, too. Is this going to take much longer? I have important napping to catch up on,” Rainbow Dash groaned, having lost interest once it became apparent that Twilight intended to lecture at them, rather than prepare them to stage a daring raid to surprise the Princess. The unicorn rolled her eyes at the pegasus’ lack of enthusiasm, though her smile remained undiminished.

“Sorry, Dash. Just a bit more, but I promise, even you’ll admit this is worth it.” The pegasus muttered something as she slouched forward on the floor, head resting on the wood, and Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend’s embellished display of boredom. “Anyway, after the wedding, and the changeling attack, Canterlot didn’t seem quite so impervious, obviously. So…I started looking for the spell the Princess had mentioned. She’d said that the original spell had been lost, and I didn’t doubt she was right, but there are a lot of books in the Canterlot archives, and even more scrolls. There are vaults beneath the castle, some of them big enough to fit all of Ponyville and still have room left over, filled with ancient documents. There are so many, the archivists and librarians just kind of…gave up on organizing them, faced with all of the newer, more relevant information. Most of the contents of those vaults, the only information on any given text is the name, and location. So, I wondered if, even though the source the Princesses had used was lost, maybe, somewhere in that maelstrom of knowledge, there was a copy.

“The first few months were beyond frustrating. Considering most ponies thought they were a legend until we reawakened them, there are tons of material dealing with the Elements of Harmony, and I don’t mean that figuratively. There was one book that must have weighed two tons just by itself. Wider than the town hall, twice as tall, and twenty feet thick.” Twilight shuddered as she remembered the dread she felt at the prospect of challenging the monstrous tome. “Thankfully, that particular book is also one of the few examples of a complete work in High Draconic in the archives, so somepony else had translated it ages ago, and found out it was a work of fiction. Something about the Princesses and masks, and the Elements do something or other. The curator in charge said it was quite good, and even gave me a copy of the translation…its around here somewhere, but I’ve been busy, so…” Her derailed train of thought was checked by another groan from a certain pegasus. “Uh…right. Anyway, my point is, there was a massive, massive amount of content to sort through, trying to discern the scholarly works from the legendary accounts and outright fiction. I…started to go a little bit crazy, to be honest. It started to feel like somepony had intentionally left behind false leads and dead ends, just to stymie anyone looking for that particular spell. Then, a few months ago, just when I was starting to think I should give up, I…stumbled on something interesting.”

“Meaning you actually tripped over something, right?” Spike asked with a knowing grin as he peeked his head out of the kitchen. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d seen his friend-slash-sister-slash-guardian accidentally solve a problem by taking the phrase, “tackle it head-on” literally. The crimson tingeing her cheeks confirmed his suspicion, and allowed himself a slight strut as he brought in a tray of sandwiches, hay fries, and glasses of apple juice, as well as a small dish of gems for himself.

“Spike! I did not trip over an ancient text and suddenly find the answer to my problem!” She corrected as the purple dragon distributed his load, pointedly ignoring the muffled laughter coming from Dash. Her assistant cast a disbelieving look at her, and she sighed. “I stumbled over a run in the carpet, slammed into a bookshelf, had an ancient text fall on my head, then land and open right to the same illustration from The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide, of the six Elements as cut gemstones,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes as the laughter stopped being muffled. “Yes, yes, the fact that I was nearly concussed by a falling book is hilarious, Rainbow Dash. Moving on! The book that…found me was an earlier record of the Elements, written when they were still considered history, rather than legend. Most of it was just information that the Princess had already explained, but the author, Ginger Flicker, referred those who were interested in the deeper workings of the Elements to three documents…all of which were in the archives. The first, Burgundy Glow’s Treatise on Harmony was a dead end, mostly concerned with the same history again, and didn’t cover any events before Discord was defeated the first time. The second, Ebon Feather’s Musings Regarding Accord was even worse. I mean, it was beautifully written, but it was just somepony’s thoughts on how both of the Princesses represented the Elements, and how everypony should strive to emulate them.

“The last scroll, though…it was old. Tremendously old. Older than the Princesses. Honestly, it’s amazing that it survived all these years. And it…it was what I was looking for.” She paused, and nodded her head reverently towards the scroll she had brought with her. “It took me months to translate it, but it was worth it. It’s a research journal, written by a sorceress named Diamond Crescent, who was tasked with developing spells to make the Elements more powerful, more versatile. I couldn’t translate all of it, but from what I could decipher, most of the spells she managed to perfect were kept in a separate tome, though she did leave enough notes that I could probably recreate some of them. But…she included one ritual in its entirety.” The unicorn’s eyes gleamed as she basked in her friend’s undivided attention, even Rainbow’s fickle concentration piqued by the reverence evident in Twilight’s voice. “It was the last entry she made, at least on this particular scroll. To quote, ‘I’ve finally done it…I’ve finished the ritual to concentrate the power of the Elements of Harmony within the chosen vessels.’ If it isn’t the spell Celestia and Luna used themselves…it must be similar. I don’t recognize every aspect of the spell, but the majority of the components are for redirecting, containing, and manipulating magic. The rest are probably just archaic forms of magic that fell out of practice since the ritual was developed.” She paused, allowing herself a brief silence for dramatic effect. “Girls…there’s nothing described on the scroll that’s beyond my abilities. I can perform this ritual, and the next time something evil shows up, we can just blast it with the Elements and get on with our lives. No more dark, monster-infested forests to navigate, no more mazes to get lost in, no more fighting our way through armies standing between us and some magic jewelry. No fuss, no muss, no ancient horrors trying to corrupt us or kill us, or whatever else ancient horrors might do. But I want everypony on board with it.” She looked out at her friends, grinned. “What do you say?”

The question hung in the air, none of the assembled mares seeming to want to be the first to replay. “Well…I don’t know, dear. Not that I’m doubting your analysis of the spell, of course; you’re clearly the expert on that,” Rarity broke the silence, her voice perfectly level, concealing with practiced ease the anxiety she felt. “I just…find it all a bit unusual, you see. You just happen to trip in the proper spot, and just happen to bump into the proper bookshelf, and just happen to dislodge the proper book, which just happens to open to the proper page? Doesn’t that strike you as a bit…strange?”

“Eh, not in Canterlot,” Spike answered casually between handfuls of gems. Five sets of eyes turned to stare at him incredulously. “What? There’s something about the Royal Libraries and Archives. You spend enough time looking for something, and eventually, you’ll trip, end up with a bruise or bump, nothing too serious, and whatever you’ve been looking for finds you. Nopony is sure why, and nopony really cares enough to find out, either. Just one of those things that happens.” He shrugged, surprised none of them had heard the stories before.

“I…see,” Rarity replied, hesitantly. She cast a surreptitious glance towards Twilight, mouthing ‘really?’ to her fellow unicorn. The purple mare simply nodded, returning a look of exasperated acceptance. “Well…in that case, and if you’re confident in your ability to perform the ritual safely, Twilight, I don’t see any reason not to.” The dressmaker paused a moment, her

mouth spreading into a sly smile. “Though I must say, I wouldn’t mind keeping the necklace, even if it isn’t strictly necessary afterwards. It’s a shame to waste such a gorgeous accessory.”

“Count me in, too!” Pinkie shouted loudly enough that the others flinched away from her. “I mean, yeah, I suppose I’ll miss the fun-adventure part of trying to stop whatever’s trying to kill us all, but if we stop them faster, that means we’ll have more time for the ‘We stopped the bad-guy’ party afterwards, and that’s way more fun than the fun we have trying to stop them, and it’ll be even better because we won’t be so tired from stopping them that we have to stop the party sooner,

and mmph mmphle mmf-”

Dash rolled her eyes as she gently pressed a hoof against Pinkie’s mouth, muffling, though not ending, the earth pony’s rambling thought process. “I’m with Pinkie. Sure, less time for everpony to see how awesome we all are, but more time later for everpony to tell us how awesome we all are,” the pegasus offered with her standard lack of modesty, earning her a rolling of the eyes from Appljack. “And let’s face it…with me around, they need all the time we can give ‘em, so they can have a little time to get around to the rest of you,” she added, smirking playfully as she flicked her gaze towards the orange mare. Twilight just shook her head at her friend’s bravado.

“Well, if everypony else wants to, I don’t want to be a bother. And…well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind not having to have quite so much…excitement, any time something scary tries to kill us all. It’s terribly stressful for all of my animal friends, after all,” Fluttershy offered, her face still partially tucked behind her mane, unable to bring herself to look Twilight in the eye after her earlier assault. The unicorn made a mental note to take the fragile mare aside once they were done, and convince her that she truly wasn’t angry. She then turned, as did the others, to look at the last of their number to speak.

Applejack had been sitting quietly as her friends expressed their approval, her eyes closed in thought. The fact that she knew her friends were watching her expectantly did nothing to hurry her thought process, nor did the sound of Dash’s free hoof tapping the floor impatiently. At last, she exhaled slowly and opened her eyes, fixing Twilight with a steely look. “Twi…Ah’ve gotta say, it’s a mighty appealin’ offer. No question it’ll make our lives easier next time somethin’ nasty shows up,” she drawled, her voice slow and even. “But…Ah think we both know there’s something you’re leaving out, sugarcube. Ah ain’t calling you a liar, but before ah say ‘yes,’ ah want to know what you aren’t tellin’ us.”

The accusation brought all attention back to the purple unicorn, her cheeks flushing faintly at the accusation. She’d hoped to keep the last details of the ritual secret, until after they’d all agreed. ‘And this after you nearly got yourself killed over your refusal to lie by omission…you just can’t seem to make up your mind today, can you? Could you at least do us both a favor and try to not make them nearly murder you again? I’m rather attached to the idea of you living, what with me being part of you, and all,’ she taunted herself, the unexpectedly genuine laugh at her own mildly morbid joke somehow worse than the sarcasm and casual cruelty she’d grown accustomed to. There were more pressing issues than her potential descent into madness, though. Nervously, her eyes darted around at her friends, their faces still blessedly free of any sign of murderous intent. She could only hope they’d remain that way. “Well, Applejack…there might be one…tiny detail I haven’t mentioned yet, about the actual performance of the ritual,” she said, forcing her voice to remain even, forcing her smile to remain on her face. “It isn’t anything…unpleasant, before you get the wrong idea. No forces of darkness to invoke, or any kind of messy sacrifice,” she added quickly, worried that Rainbow Dash might leap to a conclusion born from one too many Daring Do novels. “But, well, the ritual has to be performed under some fairly specific circumstances. It needs to be performed ‘when the sun and moon share the sky,’ so either dusk or dawn, and…okay, here’s the tricky part,” she paused, forcing her smile even wider, trying to set her friends at ease, and failing rather spectacularly.

“Wait for it…” Dash deadpanned, ignoring Pinkie’s muffled requests to have the hoof removed from her mouth.

“According to the scroll, we need to perform the ritual at a major ley nexus, one of the points where the magic that underpins the world collects and is at its strongest and most accessible,” the unicorn continued, ignoring the speedster’s remark. “Now, obviously, places like that are incredibly rare, extraordinarily powerful, and jealously guarded, usually with special chambers built around the heart of the nexus to contain and control the power. There are only five of them that are officially known to exist. One is at the heart of the Griffon Territories, revered as a gift from the Princesses to the Griffons and so sacred to them that only the current Grand Priest is even allowed to look at the door leading to the room that contains the nexus, on penalty of death. So, that one’s out.

“Another is in a cavern beneath an active volcano. The entire formation is full of magma falls and lakes of molten rock, and the temperature alone is enough to cook ponies alive without sufficient protection. Of course, the more pressing issue is that an ancient dragon has claimed the entire place as his lair. Nopony is entirely sure how long he’s been there, not even Celestia, but…it’s been a long time. Long enough for the exposure to the sheer magical power of the nexus to physically change the dragon. The few images of him all show him as this enormous monster, with scales so black they seem to drink in the light itself.” She dropped her voice, remembering with no small amount of dread the rest of the story. “It’s said that, if somepony were to cut through his armored flesh, the dragon would bleed magma, and that, if enraged, his anger could split the world in two. I asked the Princess about those stories, years ago…and she didn’t try to reassure me that it was just a legend.” Twilight shivered despite herself, remembering the distant look in Celestia’s eyes when her student had asked if the tales about the great leviathan were true.

“I…I vote against going near the terrifying, world-destroying dragon cave…if no one minds terribly,” came a whispered squeak, muffled slightly by the pillow Fluttershy was engaged in hiding under.

“Seconded,” the others all responded in surprisingly perfect unison. At least, they each assumed Pinkie was joining the chorus, her actual reply still muted by a pale blue hoof.

“The third nexus point is at the center of the Grand Fortress of the Minotaur Lords, but that place is a maze. Literally. It’s a massive, cubic labyrinth, a mile on each side, with a passage somewhere inside to the heart of the minotaur capitol. The minotaur’s supposedly have some kind of innate ability to navigate the place, but they’re generally xenophobic. And, even if we could get there, minotaur law forbids access to the chamber except under the most dire threats to their safety and survival. Again, under penalty of death.

“Option four…well, honestly, isn’t that daunting; it’s in the basement of Canterlot Castle. Across from a linen closet, actually. Which actually reminds me, if any of you ever stay at the castle, and your sheets are glowing…mention it to someone. It means one of the chambermaids has gotten confused again, and is storing the linens in the nexus chamber, and can cause all sorts of issues.”

“That one, that one! Let’s use that one!” Rarity nearly shouted, relief welling in her eyes at the mention of a non-lethal option for their quest. “It will be lovely. Take the train to Canterlot, have a nice dinner, do a little shopping, perhaps take in a show, and then, at the end of a delightful evening, we go down to the castle, and, just as the sun is rising and the moon setting…”

“We try to use the nexus point, and all burst into flames as the defensive wards, put in place so that nopony except Celestia and Luna can access the vast source of magic, activate, reducing us to six neat piles of ash,” Twilight interrupted her friend’s fantasy trip, bringing her fellow unicorn back to harsh reality.

“Oh, fie. Of course there’d have to be a catch. And asking either of them to release the defenses would, of course, ruin the oh-so-important element of surprise,” the fashionista muttered, her lips pursed in a high-class pout. “All that aside, I still feel we should take a trip to Canterlot sometime, just the six of us, for an evening out, without galas or birthdays or weddings or acts of unrewarded national heroism to worry about,” she added, happily, eliciting a groan from Rainbow Dash and Applejack, which she pointedly ignored.

“Right…anyway, that brings us to the fifth option. Upside, it’s completely unguarded. Downside, that’s because it’s located at the top of the tallest mountain in Equestria, and smack in the middle of the frozen wastes at the top of the world. The wild storms preclude air travel, and the wild magic makes teleportation impossible within five miles of the mountain. Oh, and the final thousand feet to the summit is up a completely sheer wall of solid diamond which has been magically reinforced by the uncontrolled magic of the ley focus to be several times harder than normal diamond. Oh, and there’s a permanent blizzard with gale force winds as we’d try to make the ascent,” she concluded, her friend’s mouths hanging open as she finished her description. “No, no mortal has ever made it to the top. The only reason we know about it is because the Princess decided that something about the forbidding Mountain of Death probably wasn’t natural, and checked it out herself a few centuries back,” she answered the unasked questions, allowing herself a pleased little smirk at the shocked silence.

“So then, Twi,” Applejack began slowly, “in answer ta mah question, our choices fer doing this ritual are certain death, certain death, certain death, certain death, or really, really good chance of death?” The lavender unicorn nodded, and the earth pony rolled her eyes. “Ah like this plan. Ah have a good feeling about this plan, and give it mah full support,” she offered with unmistakably forced enthusiasm.

“See, I knew you’d react like that,” Twilight allowed, with a gleeful sparkle in her eyes. “So, with the five recorded nexuses ruled out…want me to describe the sixth, unrecorded one?” she asked with impish delight.

“Of course there’s a secret one. There’s always a secret one,” Dash groaned, studiously ignoring the sensation of Pinkie’s tongue prodding her hoof, having switched tactics as she strove to convince the pegasus to remove the offending appendage. “Where’s this one, huh? The very deepest point of Tartauros? Guarded by some insane cult trying to destroy the world? Bottom of the ocean? The moon?!”

The purple scholar placed a hoof against her mouth as she chuckled at her friend’s guesses. “Actually, the sixth nexus point is about…oh, two hours or so away by hoof, if we’re not in a rush. And…mostly unguarded, except for an enchanted door that I can open without any issue whatsoever.” She wiggled against the cushion, forcing the stuffing into a more comfortable arrangement while she watched, with an unnecessarily satisfied smirk, her friends process the new information. Her eyes casually focused on the orange earth pony, she began a mental countdown. Five…four…three…two…one…

“Twi, sugarcube…” Applejack began, her predictable timing simply adding to the unicorn’s smug smile. She hadn’t originally intended to enjoy this portion of the plan quite so much, but neither had she planned for the earlier physical altercation, so she felt she could afford to indulge herself slightly. “Next time…maybe ya’ll want to lead with the option that isn’t almost immediately fatal?” the mare suggested, her voice strained.

“Well, duh, Applejack, of course she couldn’t lead with that one,” Pinkie exclaimed, her mouth finally free of its blue oppressor. Dash cast a sour glance at the party pony, rubbing the hoof that had previously acted as a dam against the earth pony’s river of words. Licking she could handle, chalking it up to “Pinkie being Pinkie.” Sucking was an entirely different matter; “weird” could only justify so much. “I mean, first, if she hadn’t given us the super scary options first, then she wouldn’t have been able to see our reactions, which let’s face it must’ve been pretty funny. And second, she probably still isn’t telling us everything about the not-so-scary option that makes it really-pretty-scary instead. Just look at her smile, that’s obviously an ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile, not an “I really had you all going with that joke” smile. I bet that nice little walk is going to take us through something really spooky, and there’ll be creepy ruins and monsters and everything. Right, Twilight?”

Twilight knew, deep within her heart of hearts, that one day, simply accepting her pink friend’s quirks might well be the impetuous for the destruction of everything she held dear. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she couldn’t explain the party-loving earth pony’s precognitive abilities, her (in)convenient flashes of insight, her unnerving tendency to casually bend space itself to her will and emerge from locations she had no logical business being able to occupy. She knew that eventually, the universe itself might grow tired of ponies blindly accepting events that went against the order system it had created, and strike back in a tide of blood and darkness. In her darker moments, she entertained the possibility that Pinkie’s very existence was geared towards that horrific end, that her fun-loving, party-throwing friend was, in truth, some dark entity from beyond creation in the shape of a pony, a caricature of all it despised, working to bring back the primeval darkness of the eternal void.

She also knew, in a much less spiritual, much more direct sense, what the universe did when somepony did make an attempt to understand Pinkie Pie. Down that path lay madness, and pain, and the rage of a beast. So, after careful consideration, she had decided that, if the universe was going to punish a pony that was only trying to help, the universe could go pound sand.

“Actually, Pinkie, that’s right. One little detail I still left out.” The lavender unicorn paused as she disregarded the specifics of Pinkie’s uncanny guess, her ears twitching as she listened. Not hearing any immediate indication that the universe had reached its breaking point, she continued. “The ley nexus we can use without facing almost certain death…is in the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. There’s a hidden staircase beneath the pedestal that held the Elements while they were dormant The Princess told me about it after the wedding, as…well, as a last resort,” she explained, the mirth from her little joke evaporating at the end.

“The Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters…in the middle of the Everfree Forest. Of course. And, since the ritual needs to be performed at either dusk or dawn, we’re bound to either traverse the forest at night, or else spend the night in those dreadful ruins,” Rarity summarized the issue, dramatically shaking her head at the prospect. “Still…it isn’t as if we haven’t navigated the forest by moonlight before. And it really is a significantly less fatal option than the rest. Assuming you’re still dead set against asking the Princesses to let us use the one in Canterlot?” A flat glare accompanied by a single slow shake of the head was all the response she received from her fellow unicorn. “Never hurts to ask, dear. And, while I do apologize for asking, you’ve told us all of the salient details, now?” A brief nod from her friend. “Then I see no cause to rescind my prior assent to this venture.”

“Beg pardon, Rares?” Applejack asked, head titled quizzically to the side.

“It, uh…it means she still wants to go,” Fluttershy translated her spa partner’s statement for the farmer’s

benefit. “And....well, the Everfree isn’t so bad, I suppose, as long as we’re all together. And maybe we’ll see Andrew while we’re there,” the pegasus added, a small smile forming at the thought.

“Andrew?” The orange mare’s head tilted further to the side, her eyes crossing slightly.

“Oh, you remember Andrew, Applejack. You know, the manticore with a big thorn in his paw that Fluttershy helped when we were trying to find the Elements and stop Nightmare Moon?” Pinkie reminded her fellow earth pony. “Though I guess I never invited you to the parties we had for his birthday, and his wedding…he wanted to keep it small, so it was really only him, his family, Fluttershy, and me who went, so you might not remember him that well. But this still sounds like a super-awesome idea, and I’m still totally behind it, one hundred percent!”

“We just went from this being a cool ritual to make us more awesome, to a cool ritual to make us more awesome after we go through an old ruined castle in the Everfree at night to do it? Do you even need to ask if I’m still fine with this?” Dash inquired with a grin, entirely too pleased by the prospect of danger.

Applejack was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Pinkie had thrown at least two parties, in the Everfree Forest, for a manticore named Andrew, with Fluttershy in attendance, and once again found herself the last holdout of the group. She nodded slowly, causing Twilight to clap her forehooves together excitedly.

“Oh, girls, I was so worried that at least one of you wouldn’t want to do this. But trust me, this is going to work out so well, and the Princesses will be so surprised, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything right off, but I was so nervous because I wanted everything to go perfectly!” the unicorn exclaimed, blushing when she realized she had briefly begun to channel Pinkie. She coughed into her hoof, composing herself. “Now, one last detail we need to cover. I told you we had to do this at dusk or dawn, and, well, the next dusk is still hours away. I know it’s a bit last minute, but if nopony has plans for later…does anypony mind if we go and do it tonight? Or at dawn, if it we don’t make it to the chamber in time for dusk?”

****

“It would seem, sister, that whatever business dear Twilight was discussing with her friends has been concluded,” Luna announced as she felt the barrier that had been erected around the unicorn’s distant home fade into nonexistence. She took a sip from the mug of coffee that the royal maid, Primrose, had just delivered to the Chamber. Despite what she expected most ponies would assume, and what her limited experience with them confirmed, she preferred the bitter beverage diluted by a generous dose of cream and a large helping of sugar, not “black as the night sky,” as one poetically inclined pony had once guessed. Her sister merely nodded, taking a similar sip from her tea, which, ironically, she did

prefer black. Or, to use her own words, ‘uncontaminated.’

The younger alicorn set her mug upon the table between them, though she maintained her telekinetic hold on it. “I suppose, then, that without the game we’ve made of your student to distract us, we must return to our respective duties. My captains wish for me to observe a training exercise they’ve devised,” she continued wistfully. While the subjects they ruled over together had become more and more accepting of her, and seemed to treat her with respect equal to the Sun Princess, they still called upon her mostly at night, leaving her average day rather dull save for the time spent with her sister and the oversight of the military divisions which answered to her. In the wake of the changeling incident, both sisters had come to a sad realization - the bulk of the Royal Guard was, to put it politely, useless. A millennium of near perfect peace had eroded the disciplined force that had stood as the Princesses’ bulwark against the terrors that lurked in the shadows, leaving them a force whose greatest strength was sheer numbers and the ability to stand in a line. A fine ability when turned against the rare criminal that blemished the land, but not against an organized opponent.

Celestia had been unwilling to cull the detritus from the ranks completely, fearful of the effect so many suddenly unemployed ponies would have on the economy. Instead, the decision had been made to restructure the organization. The former Royal Guard had been formally renamed the Day Guard, answerable ultimately to Celestia, and reorganized based on raw ability. Those guards unfit for combat found themselves assigned to largely ceremonial tasks, guarding points of interest with no real value, either tactically or otherwise. Those who showed some measure of talent for military service had been put through an accelerated training program, out of use for centuries, in the hopes of turning them into proper soldiers, with those who showed the greatest promise made officers under the supervision of the three Captains of the Guard.

For the first time in hundreds of years, the guards were trained in the use of weapons beyond those used in various rites and ceremonies. The Wonderbolts, already technically a subunit within the guard, had been tasked with training the pegasi soldiers in aerial evasion techniques and formation flight. And every unicorn was trained to use at least some variant of the Shield Wall Shining Armor could cast, based on their individual strength of magic, as well as offensive spells that wouldn’t merely stun a foe. As a fighting force, they remained untested, no suitable threat having revealed itself, but the public response had been immediate; the sight of the soldiers, in the golden armor, on parade had reassured commoner and noble alike that Equestria would be prepared for the next attack.

“How are they doing, by the way? Still living up to your high expectations of them, Luna?” Celestia asked casually, though the corners of her mouth were turned up in a slight smirk. Luna nodded, allowing herself a similar understated smile. The Day Guard was the public face of their reformed military, the gleaming shield against the darkness. That was only half the plan, however.

At her sister’s insistence, the Princess of the Night had gleefully combed through the ranks for ponies with specific skills. A pegasus mare with a talent for stealth. A unicorn stallion proficient in invisibility spells. A pair of earth pony twins whose connection with the planet allowed them to move through a dense forest and leave no trace of their passing. One by one, she found her candidates, and called them to her to be tested. Not all she found, of course, were suited for the tasks she required of them, but those who had the personality traits she sought were quietly transferred to the units under her supervision.

The unicorns were trained in the use of a special glamour, the pegasi and earth ponies fitted with a specially enchanted collar. At will, any who served her could shed their identity, hidden by the same illusion she had placed on her honor guard during official appearances and granted armor generated by magic. Stallions were still plainly different than mares, but beyond that, the only distinguishing feature on any of her guards was the presence or lack of wings or horn. And then, they trained. Like their counterparts in the public guard, they practiced combat, but unlike their opposite number, they did so with sharpened blades, and occasionally practiced both with the enchanted disguises, and thus without armor. They trained to move swiftly and silently, by day or night, in city or country. They trained to enter and exit a building, leaving no trace of their passing. They were taught to notice subtle behavioral clues in a crowd, identifying threats before the danger was upon them. And, for those few with the stomach for it, they were trained to ensure those who would become a threat were properly handled. Though, Luna reflected gratefully, none of the nine ponies who had proven proficient in that final regard had yet been forced to put their skills to practical use.

If the Day Guard was the gilded shield, held up for the public to see and be comforted by, the Night Guard was the soot-darkened blade, hidden in the darkness.

“Verily, Tia. Any task I pose to any of them, they surpass my expectations. Already, they’ve routed out three changeling infiltrators, and stopped a cult which was attempting to summon forth some great squid-headed monster,” Luna answered proudly, still pleased that her sister had shown enough trust in her to allow her complete control of the Night Guard. Truth be told, she enjoyed the company of some of her guards, having twice accepted invitations to interact with them socially, and was fairly sure several of them, stallion and mare both, had attempted to flirt with her, though she had politely quashed such attempts. “I…do worry about some of them, though. Plunging a blade into a sack of flour placed in a bed is far different from doing the same to a sleeping pony. A great part of me hopes I need never call upon them to carry out such an act,” she added, her smile faltering. She felt a gilded hoof brush against her cheek, and looked up to see her sister’s smile had grown brighter.

“And that, dear Luna, is why I know you are suited to lead them,” the white alicorn said softly, her eyes wet with tears of pride. She blinked, dispelling the moisture before it could fall and streak her coat, and laughed happily. “Now go, court awaits me, and your guards await you. I’ll see you again at dusk, sister. Perhaps my dear little Twilight was planning something interesting we can peek in on.” She chuckled to herself as she rose, walking towards the door with Luna close behind. Naturally aware of the position of the sun and moon in the sky, she knew her Captains would expect her in slightly more than an hour.

Plenty of time, by her reckoning, to stop by the archives, and ask the keepers just what a certain unicorn had been up to earlier, that had sent her back to Ponyville in such a rush.

Chapter 3

As it had happened, nopony had had an especially good reason, or the wherewithal to construct an especially good excuse, to postpone the excursion for another time, and it was agreed that the six ponies would reconvene at Fluttershy’s cottage in an hour. In theory, that would give the group plenty of time to reach the ruined castle before dusk, but the others had agreed to Twilight’s insistent suggestion that they bring the necessary provisions to spend the night if something delayed them and they were forced to wait for dawn to perform the ritual. With a final request not to mention the reason for their trip to anypony, Twilight had released the spell shielding their conversation, and sent her friends on their way.

She closed the door behind them, and sighed wearily; maintaining a spell of that magnitude was draining, both magically and physically. She was weighing the comparative benefits of a quick nap to refresh herself versus a bottle of the noxious concoction of caffeine and liquefied magic. It had caused quite a stir when first revealed a decade earlier, initially dismissed as a hoax as nopony had ever been able to condense liquid magic which didn’t dissipate within a few days at most. The greater shock came when the Princess herself announced that the product was legitimate, and issued a public decree heavily regulated the sale and use of the beverage.

The same day, the Princess had also issued a private decree, sternly forbidden her personal student from using the product, a command Twilight had dutifully obeyed…until the next Hearth’s Warming Eve, when the Princess had called Twilight to her study and repeated her prohibition of the potion, immediately before presenting her with four magnum bottles of the shimmering teal liquid. The alicorn had chuckled at her young student’s confused reaction as she poured them both a small measure from a fifth, half-empty bottle, allowing Twilight to have a taste of the liquid before she spoke again. Celestia had laughed, properly laughed, not that demure titter she was publically known for, as the little unicorn’s face twisted, the inexplicably sour liquid rolling over her tongue, the magic sending pulses of energy through her mouth and down her throat. She then explained that she had wanted to make sure she was there to see that reaction, and that desire was the sole cause of her dire warning, though she did advise her young ward that liquid magic, in large enough doses, could have a minor soporific effect on unicorns. The Princess had refilled her pupil’s glass, and they had shared a second drink, spending several hours in conversation before Twilight’s parents had come to collect their unusually energetic daughter for the family’s own celebration. It had become a tradition for the two to spend that morning together, one time out of the year that teacher and student could relax and talk freely.

A sudden, load thud pulled Twilight from her reverie, as Spike dropped a large pile of camping gear on the floor of the library. She stared at the assortment, blinking in confusion at the contents of the pile. She recalled owning a sleeping bag, a spare pillow, and a small tent; she didn’t recall owning a wood axe, a climbing ax, crampons, a machete, an inflatable raft, a camp stove, two kayaks, a spool of barbed wire, and what appeared to be a collapsible cabin. The young dragon noticed his caretaker’s confused expression, and shrugged. “I found it down in the basement awhile back, behind a door marked ‘camping supplies,’ and figured you might need some of it,” he explained simply, before scratching his head. “One of these days, you really need to ask the Mayor why the town library has so much random stuff in the basement. I mean, we’ve got a full bar down there, a room loaded up with weapons and armor, a perfect replica of Sugarcube Corner, a really creepy room full of chains and whips and wooden things I don’t even know what they are, along with a bed for some weird reason…” Spike shook his head. “And that isn’t even getting into all the locked doors we don’t have keys for. Anyway, this trip into the Everfree…much as I’d love to go spend the night in some wrecked old castle, in the middle of a creepy forest full of things that might try to eat me, you mind if I sit this one out? You six might not have much going on, but I actually did have plans tonight,” he offered, carefully not volunteering any details.

Twilight simply nodded dumbly at the dragon’s request, trying to process the strange revelation about her basement as she made her way to the kitchen, the potion having won out over the nap.

****

A short walk away, a bell jingled as Rarity walked into her boutique, humming to herself as she considered what she might need if they were forced to spend the night in the Everfree. Thankfully, she already had a sleeping bag with a satin lining and stuff with goose down along with a suitable pillow. She’d never cared for the camping trips her parents had insisted they all take as a family, but at least it meant she had the means to be relatively comfortable when forced to ‘rough it.’ It also meant that she knew from experience that bringing along her mane care products would be an exercise in futility, unless there was a conveniently placed waterfall. She sighed to herself, perhaps a bit more loudly than was strictly necessary.

“Something wrong, Rarity?” a small voice asked from a shadowed corner. The mare shrieked in surprise, springing forward as her horn ignited a brilliant blue, her magic ready to strike out at the intruder. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the voice continued, slowly emerging from the shadows to reveal its source – a white filly with a purple and pink mane, and a suitably embarrassed look on her face.

“Sweetie…of course, of course you’d be here. My sister is here, in my home, not some diminutive, high-voiced ne’er-do-well, his heart filled with ill-intent,” the older mare replied, embarrassed at her over-reaction. She willed her breathing to return to its normal pace, the glow fading from her horn as she released her magic. She spared a quick glance around the main room of her shop; thankfully, it seemed as though Sweetie had managed not to innocently destroy anything. The more immediate concerns attended to, Rarity pursed her lips and looked down at her sister. “Oh, but Sweetie, why are you here? Mother and Father didn’t send you, did they?” she asked, worried that her parents might have meant for her to watch Sweetie that night, which would certainly complicate matters.

Sweetie shook her head. “Oh, no, I’m not staying over. One of the other foals in my class, Dinky – Do you know Dinky?”

Rarity thought for a second, trying to recall some of her younger sister’s acquaintances. “I…might. Purplish-Grey unicorn filly, yes?”

A nod, and a wide smile that her sister cared enough to pay attention. “Yup, that’s her. Anyway, she invited the three of us out tonight with her mom and dad. He said he wanted to show us some pegasus statues that he’s trying to get rid of. Something about us being ‘uniquely suited to help deal with them, based on past experience,’ whatever that means,” she rolled her eyes, ignorant to her sister’s thoughts as Rarity struggled to maintain a smile.

Clearly, ‘the three of us’ meant that she would be with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Good enough, as long as somepony was around to keep them in check. And she had recalled the other filly enough to recall her parents. Despite what some ponies said about her, Derpy Hooves, ne Doo, was sharp as a tack, and fiercely protective of her daughter. Rarity was only vaguely aware of the filly’s father, a brown earth pony, though she couldn’t remember who he was beyond his familial connections. What worried her slightly was the mention of statues, and ‘last time.’

It was a state secret, known only to the six Elements of Harmony and the two Royal Sisters, that the Crusaders had played a part in undoing the seal on Discord. Neither Princess blamed them for that part, nor had there been any talk of punishment, but the fact remained they had been involved. All had agreed that it was best if nopony knew about the connection, lest less reasonable heads demand the fillies be punished. The possibility that a random pony knew about it was…unsettling. Of course, knowing for all she knew, the Crusaders had been involved in the destruction of some kind of mundane statue, as well, and that was all the stallion had meant. She made a mental note to ask Twilight to find out if the Princesses knew anything about it as soon as they returned from the ritual. In the meantime, she returned her focus to her sister. “That’s…nice, Sweetie, but it doesn’t quite explain why you’re here,” Rarity pointed out.

Her younger sister blushed slightly, looking away from her sister slightly. “Well, we all wanted to do something nice for Dinky, and Apple Bloom thought maybe she’d like to hang out with us, so I…was making her a Crusader cloak,” she explained, her voice soft as she indicated her saddlebags, still in the corner. “But I only used fabric from the pile you told me I could use, and I used regular yellow fabric for the lining, instead of the special gold fabric this time!” she added hastily, the memory of the debacle surrounding the original capes burned indelibly into her mind.

Rarity smiled gently, walking over to nuzzle her sister. “Thank you for remembering, Sweetie,” she said as her sister returned the gesture of affection. Sadly, she stepped back, and looked down at her sister. “Now, that being said, I do need you to run along. My friends and I have plans tonight, and I need to get ready to go. You have a pleasant evening with your friends and those statues.” The filly nodded, retrieved her saddle bags, and started for the door. As she opened it, she paused and turned back towards Rarity.

“Hey, sis…if you’re going out tonight, who’s going to watch Opal?” Sweetie asked, earnestly. At the mention of her name, the cat, hidden in some unseen nook of the boutique, let out an otherworldly hiss. Both unicorns flinched.

“I’m sure Opal will be fine on her own for the night.”

****

While Rarity was dealing with her sister, another pony was busily preparing for an excursion into a dark, monster filled forest, for the express purpose of enacting an ancient ritual of untold power, in the only way that made sense to her mind. Pinkie Pie was baking muffins.

“Could you explain this one more time, Pinkie,” Mrs. Cake asked, puzzled. The pink pony had burst into the kitchen in a tizzy, and begun to gather ingredients. Pinkie, vast font of energy that she was, was easily worth two normal ponies in the kitchen, besides her invaluable (and free) services as a go-to foalsitter, so neither of the Cakes had any issue with her using reasonable amounts of their supplies for her own projects, and the quantities she was currently using were positively subdued by Pinkie’s standards. Still, the mare’s pronouncement that she was baking ‘special magic muffins for the Everfree’ had left the shop’s proprietors a touch more nervous than normal. The last time Pinkie had tried to combine magic and pastries, the bear claws she and Twilight had produced had made a valiant effort to defend themselves from the customers, failing to do any real harm only because their nails were, in fact, slivers of almond.

“Not really,” Pinkie replied cheerfully, looking at the ponies who were her employers, landlords, and emotionally-available-pseudo-replacement family. “Twilight asked me not to tell, and you know the whole bit about friends and secrets and trust and all that, so I’ll skip part where I pop out of something I shouldn’t be able to right now since I’m in a hurry, but we might need breakfast, so I want to bake up some super-special muffins to celebrate the cool magic she said she’s going to do,” she offered, in a single breath, as a response to the nervous flutter in Mrs. Cake’s eye.

“Oh. So the muffins are to celebrate something magic-related?” the older mare asked, still uneasy. Pinkie’s curly pink mane bobbed as the pony nodded enthusiastically. “And the muffins themselves are in no way, shape, or form magic themselves, and this unlikely to attempt to extract pastry vengeance upon our shop or customers?” The pink mane shook side to side. The blue mare visibly relaxed, and turned to leave the kitchen. “Well then, carry on, Pinkie.”

“Mrs. Cake?” Pinkie called out, and the older mare turned back to look at her. Pinkie’s head was cocked to the side, and she’d stopped moving. “Do me a favor? Upstairs, in my closet, there’s a big box with a big lock on it. The combination is my birthday, the day I moved in here, and the day the twins were born. I’ve put all kinds of stuff in it for Pumpkin and Pound, when they’re are older. Just…remember that, okay?”

The bakery owner took a step towards her young friend, worried by the solemnity in Pinkie’s voice. “Pinkie…what’s wrong? Why do you need me to know that, when you could just give it to them yourself?” Mrs. Cake’s mind was racing; she wasn’t used to seeing Pinkie behaving so seriously, nor, truthfully, did she care for it. But then the smile was back, and the pink earth pony returned preparing the muffins.

“Oh, just in case I forget the combination or something,” she explained, giggling to herself. “You know me; I can remember the birthdays for everypony in Ponyville, but when it comes to my own anniversaries I’m awful. But you’re really good with dates and numbers and important stuff like that, so if I tell you, I’ll be able to ask you when I forget and then you can tell me.”

Mrs. Cake shook her head ruefully. Of course. She had started to get all worked up, fearing the worst, and it was just Pinkie’s usual unusual train of thought. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, chastising herself not to worry so much, as she stepped up to the counter the help her husband handle the customers, as Pinkie added hot peppers and chocolate chips to the batter.

****

Rainbow Dash perched on a low hanging cloud, bored. Her preparations for the coming journey had been simple enough, as she’d had nothing to prepare. For any pegasus with functional wings, camping wasn’t something that required sleeping bags, tents, or other, similar items; if there were clouds available, a pegasus had all the bedding she needed. Even in the Everfree, where the strange magic permeating the forest made it impossible to manipulate the weather the way it was in the rest of Equestria, clouds were still just clouds, and responded the same as ever. And that was ignoring the simple truth that Dash could cover in minutes the same distance her earthbound friends would need hours to cross. She’d briefly entertained asking Twilight if the unicorn would mind if she went ahead on her own, though the idea was dismissed nearly as quickly as it entered her mind; brave as she fancied herself, she didn’t care for the prospect of spending hours in the ruins of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, in the heart of the Everfree, by herself. Even the brash mare recognized the different between courage and recklessness. On occasion, she recognized the difference, at least.

Still, that left her with nearly about fifty minutes and nothing to do; she couldn’t go with her default response of ‘nap,’ given the risk of oversleeping and throwing off the timing of the ritual, and she was out of Daring Do novels to read…official ones, anyway. She was about to fly off to Fluttershy’s, see if her fellow pegasus needed any help feeding her animals or anything, when she heard a low, buzzing sound in the distance. Her ears flicked forward, listening as the noise grew louder, coming closer, and her face spread into a half-smile of recognition. Spreading her wings, she leapt from her fluffy vantage point, lazily gliding towards the source of the buzz. Her half-smile growing into a full grin, she waited until her prey was nearly below her before she tucked her wings in tight, entering a quick, steep dive. The buzz stopped, replaced by an excited shriek as her wings snapped back open, her forelegs snatching up the little orange filly as the blue mare laughed and flapped rapidly, regaining altitude rapidly despite the additional form her small passenger and the scooter she had previously been riding, now clutched tightly to her chest.

“Dash, you know my parents asked you not to do that!” Scootaloo admonished her hero, though the massive smile on the filly’s face robbed it of a great deal of weight, as did the tight, one-legged hug she was giving the blue mare, the scooter held fast with the other. The older pegasus laughed.

“Actually, squirt, they asked me not to do that while they were around. They never said I couldn’t do it when they weren’t with you,” Dash corrected as she smiled down at the filly, ignoring the nagging image of Twilight smiling smugly that the pegasus had identified and exploited a loophole. She continued her ascent until they were about fifty feet above the streets, then flared her wings to her sides and began another slow glide back to the ground.

The filly hummed happily as she flew with her idol, and Dash couldn’t it as her smile grew wider. She was an only child, and grateful for it; an older sibling probably would’ve cramped her style, and a younger one…well, even Dash could admit that she wouldn’t be good as that kind of influence on a foal. She’d seen what Rarity and Applejack went through with their sisters, and she knew, in her heart, that she wouldn’t have the talent for it. As an aunt, or at least as a designated-aunt-substitute, however, she got most of the fun of being a sister, with practically none of the work, and that suited the daredevil just fine. Just fine, she insisted to herself, pointedly ignoring the liquid pooling in the corner of her eyes.

The pair glided to the ground in silence, the filly enjoying her temporary freedom from the surly bonds of the earth, the mare basking in the silent affection coming from her passenger. She swept her wings forward as they neared the ground, reluctantly loosening her hold on Scootaloo as the orange pegasus grudgingly dropped the remaining two feet to the ground, her scooter at her side. “So, you got anything cool planned tonight, kid?” Dash asked as her hooves touched the ground.

“Yeah, Apple Bloom, Sweetie and me are doing something with Dinky and her folks. Something to do with statues, I think. Kinda wasn’t paying attention,” Scootaloo answered, kicking idly at the dirt. “But Mom and Dad think said I should go, and Dinky’s family is pretty cool, so no harm in going. What about you, you gonna practice any cool new tricks?” The filly looked up at her hero, eyes wide at the prospect of some new stunt.

The blue mare shook her head, tousling Scootaloo’s purple main with her hoof. “Sorry, squirt. Sounds like you and I are in the same boat; Twilight’s dragging me and the others along for some magic thing,” she explained, feigning disinterest in the ritual for Scootaloo’s benefit. After all, if the filly wasn’t looking forward to her own evening, no reason to brag about how cool hers was going to be. Well, she supposed there was a reason to brag anyway, but it’d just make the filly feel bad, and there was no reason to do that, at least.

“Oh, okay,” Scootaloo said with a nod. She hadn’t expected Rainbow to be able to go with them, so she wasn’t disappointed in the answer, but she had figured it was worth a shot to ask, just in case. She kicked the dirt again, and looked away from her idol. “Hey, uh, Rainbow Dash…listen, I know your busy, but, uh…my parents said that, if you were okay with it, I could ask you…for flight lessons?” Her voice clearly pitched up at the end, somehow turning her statement into a question. “I mean, they’re great and all, but Dad’s not really that great a flier anyway, and Mom’s a unicorn, so they thought that maybe you could…”

For the second time that day, Dash found herself putting her hoof into another pony’s mouth to cut them off, though she was far less forceful this time. “I’d love to, Scoots. I’ll probably be busy tomorrow morning, but how about tomorrow afternoon, around…I dunno, two-ish, in the park?”

A pair of small, orange forelegs thrown around her neck was her answer, and the filly hugged her so tightly Dash nearly had trouble breathing. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” the filly shouted joyfully, her tiny wings fluttering of their own accord, filling the air with a low hum. “I’ve got to get going, I’m meeting the others at Sweet Apple Acres soon, but I’ll see you tomorrow, and this will just be awesome!” Scootaloo released her vice grip on the older pegasus, smiling so wide it almost hurt Dash’s cheeks to see it. With a whoop of glee, she hopped on her scooter, and zipped off towards the farm without another word, though her happy laughter echoed behind her.

Dash just shook her head at the youth’s exuberance as she took to the sky again, making her way towards Fluttershy’s cottage. She’d be early, but she figured she’d either be able to help her oldest friend with her preparations, or else spend a bit of time catching up with the other pegasus. She cast one glance back over her shoulder as the orange filly sped away, and shook her head. “Best. Kind-of-aunt. Ever,” she muttered to no one in particular as she flew off, still pointedly ignoring the half-formed tears at the corners of her eyes.

****

“Now remember, Apple Bloom, you mind Dinky’s parents tonight, and for Celestia’s sake, don’t stare at her mother’s eyes. Ya’ll know it makes that whole family uncomfortable, and besides that, you know full well that mare can see better than you ever will, so it’s just rude,” Applejack reminded her little sister as she strapped her own saddle bags on. On one side, the material bulged outward as it strained against her sleeping bag and pillow. On the other side, the material bulged outward as it strained against two dozen apples, a bottle of plain cider, and a bottle of ‘special’ cider, just in case.

The filly nodded dutifully, her red bow bobbing in time with her head, then turned and ran out into the yard without another word, expecting her friends and minute. She wasn’t especially excited about seeing a bunch of old statues, but she always liked spending time with the other Crusaders, and Dinky was pretty fun, too. The door swung shut behind her, leaving her sister and brother to simply shake their heads. “Ah don’t know about you, Big Mac, but Ah’ve got a feeling tonight’ll end with something smashed into tiny little pieces.”

“Eeyup,” the red stallion agreed, simply.

“And you’re sure you’ve got the farm covered while Ah’m off with ma friends, right?”

“Eeyup,” her brother replied again, as he slowly stood, intent on finding himself a slice of pie.

“And you won’t forget that some of the trees in the northwest orchard are ready for buckin’ in the mornin’?”

“Nnnnnope,” he answer, rolling his eyes before pulling open a cabinet, looking for a plate.

“Ah should be back before noon, but just in case I’m not, rememb-” the mare began, only for her brother to spin on his hind legs and stare at her.

“Sis, Ah know you’re just trying to help, and Ah can appreciate that, but ya’ll need to remember that Ah’m yer older brother, not yer younger. Ah’m a grown stallion and Ah can more than handle this farm for a day without you lookin’ over mah shoulder. No offense, sis, but so long as Ah’m not hurt like Ah was that one year, Ah can handle the applebucking by mahself. So you can just go have fun with yer friends, and leave the farm to me,” he said, mildly annoyed at his sister’s well-meant but unnecessary explanation.

She didn’t know it, but Granny Smith had taught him everything that needed to be done to keep the farm prospering, and he was capable of it all by himself, for the most part. There was no question in his mind that it was easier with the two of them running thing, but sometimes he just had enough with her condescension, and needed to remind her that he wasn’t some foal whose hoof she needed to hold. Staring at her, his face passive, he waited for her to make some reply. None came. “Well then, shouldn’t you be goin’, too?” he asked, allowing himself the slightest hint of a smirk.

“Eeyup,” she replied, suitably chastened as she stood, and walked quickly out the door, leaving her brother to enjoy his pie as she headed towards Fluttershy’s cottage. He nodded to himself as he resumed his hunt for the pastry, unsure where his grandmother had hidden it, only to stop when he heard a wizened, wheezing laugh coming from the door leading into the living room.

“Sometimes, that girl’s head gets bigger than her little purple friend’s balloon and she acts like more of a nag than me. Ah always like it when you stand up to her, remind her that she ain’t the only Apple with a brain in her head,” the old green mare standing in the door frame observed, nodding at her grandson. “Now sit yerself down, and I’ll get you yer pie. Sound good?”

“Eeyup,” the stallion replied, smiling gently as he returned to his seat.

****

Fluttershy nodded to herself as she closed her saddle bags. She had never much cared for sleeping on clouds, even as a foal, and so had packed a goose down sleeping bag and pillow set, despite the dirty looks her geese friends had given her as she did. She had tried to explain that it was donated down, but the birds had wanted no part of it, and had flown off to a pond a few miles away. It wasn’t the first time one of the animals she’d cared for had reacted like that; the sheep shunned her completely if she wore a wool sweater during the winter, for instance, and she’d long since come to accept that they’d come back eventually. After all, friends forgave each other. Besides which, she had a marginally larger problem at the moment, regarding a long, firm, slightly-ridged object she didn’t want to leave behind.

“Angel Bunny, please, I know you’re hungry, but my friends and I might be staying overnight away from home, and I want to bring some carrots and celery along in case I need to settle my nerves, and I didn’t realize we only had two carrots left. So please, can you settle for a salad tonight? I promise I’ll make it up to you when we get back,” she pleaded with the rabbit,

who was currently hiding underneath her sofa, hunched over the orange vegetable protectively.

She was flat on her stomach, her hooves stretched under the furniture, trying to catch her friend, but each time she tried to grab him, he hopped back and kicked at her hooves. He wasn’t large enough, or powerful enough, for his kicks to hurt her, to his chagrin, but he only had three options to express his displeasure with his yellow keeper, and he had learned long ago that she was by far his superior when it came to attempting to stare an opponent into submission, and biting had the tendency to provoke the same resulting as glaring at the infuriating mare. He might have thrown something at her, but the only object at hand was the carrot itself, and surrendering his prize as an expression of his refusal to surrender his prize

was, by its nature, ridiculous.

The pegasus was so focused on retrieving the carrot from her nominal pet that she didn’t hear the door quietly open, nor the sound of footsteps as somepony walked in, somepony shocked into her own silence by the sight of the yellow mare, flank in the air, tail flicking nervously. “Please, Angel, Mommy really needs you to give it to her right now. My friends might be here soon, so we don’t have much time to play,” she pleaded with the rabbit, her voice strained.

“Uh…Shy? Am I…interrupting something?” Rainbow Dash asked with a snigger at the situation before her, bursting into full raucous laughter as her old friend gave a loud, panicked squeak and pulled her head from under the sofa, her face colored deep crimson as she realized the potential implications of her position.

“Oh, Dash! No, no, it wasn’t like that, Angel was just being a naughty little bunny, and wouldn’t give me his carrot so I could put it in my pouch, and…and I’m not really making the situation any better right now, am I?” she tried to explain, before realizing how it all sounded. “Let…let me try that again?”

“Calm down, Shy. I know how much you like to have something crunchy to snack on when you’re stressed, and spending the night in the Everfree would stress anypony out. Well, not me, but almost anypony,” the speedster replied, with her normal bravado, as her laughter faded out. “And I’m sorry for laughing. I wasn’t really laughing at you, ya know? But you have to admit, if you saw me with my face down and my backside up in the air, begging for somepony to ‘give it to me,’ you’d probably have laughed, too,” she continued as she walked over and gave the other mare a friendly nuzzle.

Fluttershy tilted her head down, covering her face behind her flowing pink mane out of embarrassment, though she couldn’t help but give a soft giggle as she felt Dash’s cheek pressed against her own. “I’d probably have passed out from the embarrassment, actually,” the gentle pegasus corrected. “That, or flown away so fast even you wouldn’t have been able to catch me,” she added, teasing her friend. The blue mare pulled back quickly, her face frozen in a mask of exaggerated indignation.

“Oh, that’s how it is, is it?” Dash asked, doing her best to mimic Rarity at her most indignant. “I come in, find you in a compromising position with your rabbit, don’t judge you for it, and then you insult me?!” The cerulean pegasus spun around, the momentum brushing her rainbow tail against Fluttershy’s face in a playful mock-slap. “In that case, I say good day, mare!” She began to trot towards the door, making it a grand total of three steps before she broke into hysterical laughter and turned back to her friend. “How was that?” she asked with a wink.

Fluttershy shook her head slowly, her mane swinging side to side, unable to control her smile. “You’re getting better, Rainbow. But somehow, I don’t think Rarity would agree with me about that.” The first time Rainbow Dash had imitated the white unicorn like that, Fluttershy hadn’t cared for it, thinking that her oldest friend was insulting the pony who was, in some ways, her closest friend. After the speedster had explained she only meant it as a harmless joke, not as any kind of insult, Fluttershy did have to admit that Dash had a good grasp of Rarity’s mannerisms, at least when the unicorn was aiming for the overdramatic. She sighed happily at her friend’s antics, hopping up onto her couch and patted the fabric next to her invitingly. Dash, still chuckling to herself, walked back over and joined her. The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Fluttershy lost in her memories of all the fun she and Dash had had together.

“Hey, ‘Shy…do you think I’d make a good mom?” Dash asked suddenly, wrenching the yellow mare from her woolgathering. She saw her friend looking at her, devoid of humor. Fluttershy sighed to herself, recognizing where their conversation was headed.

“Scootaloo?” she asked simply, already aware of the answer before her friend’s shallow nod confirmed it. Fluttershy gently wrapped her forelegs around Rainbow Dash, pulling the other mare into a comforting hug while she considered what to say. It wasn’t the first time Dash had visited to ask that question after an encounter with the orange filly, and Fluttershy doubted it would be the last. The yellow mare took a breath, then looked the troubled pegasus square in the eyes, her gaze soft and comforting. “Rainbow, if circumstances were different, I’m sure you’d make a wonderful mother,” she answered, thankful, as she was each time her friend asked the question, that she was meant to embody Kindness, and not Honesty. It was a comforting, harmless lie, though, even if she suspected Dash realized it was a lie, at least on some level. Not even a lie, really, but a half-truth, Fluttershy reasoned. She truly believed Dash could be a good mother, under the right circumstances, and Rainbow had thankfully never asked outright if the relevant circumstance was her orientation. She squeaked in shock as her friend tightened the embrace, Dash’s head nestled in her pink mane as the cerulean mare shed a few silent tears.

The two pegasi sat in silence, holding each other, the minutes passing by as Dash struggled to rein her emotions back in, Fluttershy doing her best to soothe her friend’s distress, just as she’d soothe a frightened animal, all while silently thanking the Princesses that Dash was too proud to either adopt a foal, or to ask for somepony to help her with the magical alternatives, at least so far. She loved the other pegasus like a sister, but the thought of her friend trying to raise a filly or colt on her own frightened the timid pony more than she could ever admit. But she knew that hearing the truth out loud would break Dash’s heart. So she simply cooed softly into her friend’s ear, as she had a dozen times before, waiting for the tears to stop, as she held her own in.

Angel Bunny, his hiding spot long abandoned, watched from the table, shaking his head at the scene. With a frustrated sigh, he placed the carrot he had been holding into the yellow one’s bag, and hopped away to find something else to eat.

****

Twilight was the first to arrive, her saddle bags looking strangely empty. She had reached the cottage earlier than she, or anypony else, had expected, and thus unwittingly stumbled into the cottage in time to catch the conclusion of Dash’s minor breakdown. Fluttershy, spotting the unicorn before Dash became aware of her, simply mouthed ‘Scootaloo,’ prompting Twilight to slowly back out of the house. Turning back down the path, she saw Rarity coming up the path from town, the contents of her bags light enough to be only a minor bother, and teleported next to her, intercepting the dressmaker with a quick shake of her head. “Scootaloo,” she whispered, eliciting a sad nod from the white mare.

Unbeknownst to the cerulean pegasus, both of the unicorns she counted amongst her closest friends were aware of the issue. Rarity, by virtue of being Fluttershy’s dearest friend and confidante, had been told the day after Dash had first broken down in the pegasus’ cottage. She had hoped the worldlier unicorn would have some advice she could pass on, some simple fix for their mutual friend’s problems. Unfortunately, the only advice Rarity had been able to provide was to try and comfort Dash whenever the issue arose, along with a few spells, named in a whispered voice, and a warning to find her if Dash ever mentioned any of them.

Confused as to why Rarity would be so worried about such harmless-sounding magic, and unable to wheedle any more information from an increasingly nervous Rarity, Fluttershy had decided to talk to Twilight, hoping that the more mystically-minded mare would be more willing to explain the spells. Rarity had accompanied her, trying as they walked to dissuade the concerned pegasus from talking to the other unicorn, but to no avail. An hour later, they sat together in the library, their faces looking for all the world like a pair of very large tomatoes, as Twilight explained, in unnecessarily explicit detail, the purpose and origin of each of the spells Fluttershy had asked about, noticing neither the increasingly frequent whimpers coming from the pegasus nor the embarrassed coughs from Rarity. She was, in fact, completely oblivious to her friends, until she had asked which mare would be fulfilling which ‘role,’ at which point Fluttershy had fainted dead away, and Rarity had found it necessary to explain the situation.

Back in the present, the two unicorns stood silently on the small bridge near the cottage, listening to the flowing brook beneath them and the chatter of Fluttershy’s animals. They had both agreed, at Fluttershy’s insistence, not to talk about the problem unless Fluttershy herself brought it up, though they had made no promises regarding worried glances between themselves. A few minutes later, the pegasi stepped out of the cottage, Dash’s façade of confidence restored, Fluttershy seemingly weighed down by far more than just her saddlebags. Rarity and Twilight both slowly walked over to their yellow friend, giving her a quick, reassuring hug while Dash was distracted by the antics of a trio of chickens.

“Do you think we should wait, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked quietly, looking over at the rainbow-maned mare, who had apparently decided to join in with the chickens, and was chasing them around their enclosure, ignorant of her friends’ conversation. “I don’t want to drag her through the Everfree if she’s not up for it.”

“I think that would just make it worse, actually,” Fluttershy replied, her voice even softer than normal. She cast a glance behind her, her face brightening somewhat as she saw her friend playing with the poultry, laughing triumphantly as the birds scattered before her. “This way, she’ll be with the rest of us, and she’ll have something else to focus on. Besides, she might get suspicious if you try to postpone this right now. You know how Rainbow Dash can be, and if she thinks you saw her crying just now it will just embarrass her. At least, if nopony minds me saying so.”

“No, I think you’re quite right, dear. Dash’s problem isn’t time-sensitive, and a delay might tip our hoof that we know,” Rarity reasoned, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced over to see that the chickens had turned the tables of Rainbow Dash, and were chasing after her, one having somehow found its way onto her head. “Though, it think it would be best, Fluttershy, if we made sure Dash wasn’t alone with Twilight this evening,” she added, all levity gone from her gaze. “I didn’t want to worry you prematurely, but…a few days ago, she stopped by my shop, asking some rather specific questions about a few specific spells.” She paused, letting the emphasis she had placed on the last few words sink in. “She already knew about them, by name and function, so I couldn’t outright lie to her, and tell her that they didn’t exist. I did explain to her that I couldn’t cast them, in no uncertain terms,” she continued, before looking significantly at the purple unicorn, who seemed to have already guessed what was coming next. “The issue is, I…may have let slip that it was a matter of the complexity of the spells, and the mystic power necessary to fuel them.” Twilight groaned, pressing a hoof to her forehead. “Oh, I am sorry, darling, but she caught me off-guard, and I didn’t realize what I was saying until she said she’d just have to ask you.”

“No, Rarity, it isn’t your fault. If she knows that the magic exists, she’d have asked me eventually. At least this way she didn’t decide to ask every unicorn in town. Imagine if she had, and somepony had said something…well, something honest. She’d take it as a challenge, and her pride would never let her back down. As it is, we can still try to talk her out of anything drastic,” Twilight reasoned, though her tone betrayed her exasperation with the situation.

“Who are ya’ll talking outta what?” Applejack asked casually as she walked up to her friends, her stride unaffected by her heavily laden saddlebags. The three mares, so focused on Rainbow Dash that they hadn’t heard the earth pony coming, flinched in surprise, Fluttershy instinctively ducking behind the two unicorns. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle ya there, girls. But what’s going on? Anything Ah can help with?”

“Well, Applejack, you see…we’re worried about Dash,” Rarity suddenly explained, drawing opened mouthed stares from the other two. “You see, Dash has gotten into her head that it would be a splendid idea to…raise…chickens. Yes, chickens. Apparently, she’s decided that they’re horribly lazy birds, what with them walking everywhere instead of flying, so she wishes to raise a few herself and make them, and I quote her directly here, ‘at least two-thirds less lame.’ Fluttershy, bless her heart, is disturbed by visions of Dash hurling poor, frightened chickens from the clouds and then…well, I shan’t go on, for fear of upsetting my dear friend.” She paused, dramatically throwing her legs around the stunned pegasus, her hoof gently stroking Fluttershy’s pink mane as she made a show of ‘calming’ the other mare. “You see how concerned she is? The poor dear can’t even speak!”

Applejack blinked dumbly at the white unicorn’s overwrought account of the problem, tilting her Stetson back as she rubbed her forehead with a forehoof. “Well, Ah can understand why you’d be so concerned, Fluttershy. But by the looks of it, now that Pinkie’s saved her from those chickens you’ve got over there, doesn’t look like Dash is too keen to be spending any more time with ‘em. So…problem solved, Ah guess?”

Rarity glanced behind her, boggling both at where Pinkie Pie had come from, and how she had managed to distract the offending chickens with what appeared to be a life-sized replica of a moose constructed entirely from strawberry mousse. “Yes, well, good then. The chickens are now safe, so Fluttershy can rest easy. But it’s probably best we don’t remind Dash about this idea, at all, ever. Just to be on the safe side. Now, Applejack, could you be a dear and fetch them? Daylight, as they say, is burning, and we do have a rather firm deadline for this particular endeavor.” The earth pony nodded firmly, and set off to retrieve the other two, shaking her head at the very idea of Dash teaching chickens to fly like that.

“You…she…lie…chickens…what?!” a flabbergasted Twilight sputtered, staring at Rarity. The designer smirked pleasantly, and tossed her mane.

“If one wishes to consort with the most elite levels of Canterlot society, my dear, and the situation of one’s birth is, shall we say, somewhat lacking, and one also lacks the benefit of meritocratic standing, such as status as the personal student of the divine ruler of said society…well, one had best master early on the ability to deflect attention from undesirable questions or observations, alongside the skills to disguise certain traits – for instance, one’s accent – which act as telltale indicators of said station of birth,” she explained, gently using her hoof to close Twilight’s still open mouth. “Now, come along, you two. We really should get going if we want to reach the Castle by dusk,” she advised as she trotted off to join up with Dash, Applejack, and Pinkie. Twilight and Fluttershy, sharing a look of unadulterated confusion, trailed behind her as they walked over to the others.

Once they assembled, the five other mars turned and looked at Twilight, smiling expectantly. The purple mare nodded, filing away Rarity’s little revelation for further consideration later. For now, she focused on the task at hand, slipping into her unofficial role as leader as she quickly ran down her mental checklist. She had the components she needed for the ritual, along with her some of the camping supplies Spike had found in the cellar, stuffed into her saddlebags. Check. She had, of course, actually had said saddlebag, a Hearth’s Warming Eve gift from Princess Luna ‘to my second true friend’, enchanted to hold more than the exterior dimensions seemed to allow and decrease the weight of anything placed inside. Check. Her friends were apparently ready; a quick glance showed four of them had their own saddlebags strapped around their midsections. Rainbow Dash was unburdened, but considering her tendency to use clouds as bedding Twilight wasn’t surprised. So, check. She could smell something freshly baked coming from Pinkie’s bags, and could see rounded shapes about the right size to be apples straining against the fabric on Applejack’s side, so the two mares had likely thought to bring food for the group, besides what she had brought in case nopony else thought of it. It seemed they were all ready to go, with plenty of time to spare.

“Alright, girls, so, as it stands we should have plenty of time to get to the Castle before the sun starts to set. I’ve been thinking that, if nopony disagrees, we should take more or less the same route we did last time we all went to the castle.” She stopped, looking at the others for any sign of disagreement. “Okay then. I guess we should get going,” she finished with a wide smile, and began to trot towards the forest with a small spring in her step, her friends following close behind.

Chapter 4

“So, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash opened, taking a break from flying in loose circles around her less aerially-inclined friends to walk with them through the forest, “I know the Everfree is weird and wild and magic and all that, and that’s why the animals take care of themselves, and the weather doesn’t respond to us pegasi, all that stuff.” She looked straight up, frowning at the dark gaps in the canopy above them. “But what keeps it so dark all the time? I mean, I’d understand if the trees were blocking the light, or if the skies were cloudy, but I can see straight up to open sky, and it still looks like it’s after sunset, even though it was bright and sunny when we walked in here twenty minutes ago. What gives?” the cerulean mare asked expectantly, assuming that the resident expert on magic would have an answer to satisfy her boredom kindled curiosity.

“Magic, Dash. Really, terrifically powerful magic,” the unicorn replied, vaguely, uncomfortably.

“We all kinda figured that, sugarcube,” Applejack said with a chuckle, guessing that her friend was still a bit nervous of the forest. Running into a cockatrice would do that to a pony. “Ah think what Dash meant is, what kinda magic?”

Twilight stopped walking, looking to the sides of the dirt path at the strange, gnarled trees and unkempt vegetation. “The magic that ‘protects’ the Everfree is ancient, Applejack. Beyond ancient. There’s no written record of what caused it, what maintains it, anything. For all anypony knows, its naturally occurring. But it isn’t inviolate.” She glanced about at her friends, standing in the forest, staring at her as she explained. It didn’t look like she was going to get out of explaining what she knew, but she didn’t want to waste time standing around in the middle of the forest, so she began to walk again, speaking as she did. “The full explanation involves a good amount high-level magical theory, and we don’t really have time for that. And, no offense, but, well, none of you would understand it, just like I wouldn’t necessarily understand the nuisances of baking the perfect cake, or how the finer points of stitching together a dress in an obscure fashion popular three centuries ago.

“Now, here’s what I can explain, because this is how the Princess explained it to me. The Everfree isn’t an anti-magic zone, strictly speaking. If it were, then no magic would work in here, period. Not the Elements, not Nightmare Moon’s powers, not even the ley nexus under the castle. The flipside being that an anti-magic field, since it’s composed of magic in the first place, tears itself apart over time. After we rescue Princess Luna, while we were walking back to Ponyville to celebrate, Princess Celestia described it to me as a ‘Resilience Field,’ though she didn’t go into much more detail about what that meant, exactly. Basically, magic functions normally in the forest, and really powerful magic can override the effect temporarily, but the Resilience Field means that, eventually, the Everfree will always return to an ‘untouched’ state. It’s simply a matter of how long it takes for the forest to ‘consume’ the power of the spell.

“If, for instance, a normal unicorn tried to change something, the effect would decay almost immediately after they stopped maintaining the effect. Somepony really powerful, like…well, not to brag, but like me could cast a spell that might last a few minutes. Celestia said that, if she had a really pressing need, she could probably have a spell that would last a decade before it gave out, give or take a few months. But eventually, the Resilience Field will subsume any spell that tries to control the forest, or anything that’s spent enough time inside it. It also seems to do something to the animals, but the Princess didn’t really get into deta-”

“Hold up there a sec, Twi,” Applejack injected, noticing that her friend was about to go a bit off-topic. “That still doesn’t explain why it’s so dark in here all the time. Granny Smith’s told me ‘bout how the Everfree was back when she was my age, and she says it ain’t changed all that much. So unless the Princess has been doing somethin’ every ten years and not tellin’ anypony about it, there’s something you’re leavin’ out.”

Twilight stopped walking, and gave the orange mare a tired look. “Applejack…that isn’t entirely true. The forest has been changing, just not quickly enough for anypony to necessarily notice,” Twilight clarified, taking a moment to steady her voice. “It’s been getting steadily brighter for a little more than a thousand years, now.”

“A…thousand years, you say?” Fluttershy asked, more nervously than usual. “Then this has something to do with…”

“Nightmare Moon, yes,” Twilight responded, both completing and answering the pegasus’ unasked question. “The stories of the ‘Eternal Night’ incident that most ponies are familiar with is apparently a vastly simplified version of what happened. While moon was locked in place at its apex, it was a symbolic gesture. Since Princess Celestia still maintained control over the sun, nothing could stop her from raising it. At worst, the path of the moon could have been matched to that of the sun. The world would have faced an unending eclipse, but that would have been more ‘annoying’ than ‘catastrophic’ in the long term. Luna’s exact words were, ‘I was behaving like an angry little foal who hadn’t gotten her way, throwing a temper tantrum until somepony paid attention to me,’ when she told me her part of the story,” Twilight paused for breath, and to look at her friends. “By the way, just in case it wasn’t obvious, she’s still, well, embarrassed about the whole incident, so don’t ask her about this, okay?”

Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Well, duh, Twilight. Even Dash and me aren’t that cluelessly insensitive,” the pink mare assured with a laugh. Dash began to give her friend an annoyed glare, before she was forced to admit to herself that the party pony hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. “But what happened next? Oh, did she funnel a bunch of magic into the moon, and then use it to blow up the sun?”

“Uh…no, Pinkie, she didn’t use the moon to destroy the sun,” Twilight assured her friend. She had to admit the notion had a certain deranged merit, and found herself wondering if either of the Princesses were able to control power of that magnitude. She shook her head; something to think about another time.

“She used an illusion spell, didn’t she?” All eyes turned to Rarity, shocked that the white mare had spoken up. “Really now, must everypony act so shocked? While I freely admit that Twilight is vastly my superior when it comes to spellcraft, I am still a unicorn, dears, and I’d appreciate it ever so much if everypony who doesn’t have a horn could remember that, and not behave as if I’ve grown a second head when I display some understanding of magic,” the fashionista protested politely. “Now then, Twilight, is my little guess close?” she asked, sweetly fluttering her eyelashes at an increasingly confused Twilight.

“Oh, uh, yeah, Rarity, you are,” the lavender unicorn confirmed, trying to recover her train of thought from the interruptions. “According to Luna, she was still in control of her own actions at that point, and had the whole thing planned out. Day and night were supposed to swap places for a week, maybe two, but everypony was supposed to follow the same schedule, so they’d be active during the night. They’d then come to appreciate the night and, by extension, Luna. Celestia…didn’t take the explanation well.” Twilight looked down, remembering the haunted look on her mentor’s face, tears in the corners of her eyes as she had retold the story of her sister’s fall to the young mare, so soon after her sister’s return. “Luna…didn’t handle her plan being rejected out of hoof all that well, and in her anger, she gave into…something. To this day, neither Princess is sure what it was, but there was some kind of…entity behind Luna’s corruption, some force that was twisting her feeling to its own ends, whispering dark suggestions in her mind, making her doubt her own worth, question how much her sister loved her. When Celestia demanded that Luna lower the moon, Luna accepted the entity’s offer of power, and...Nightmare Moon took over.” Twilight sighed, looking up sadly into the artificial night, hoping that neither Princess would be upset about what she’d just told her friends.

“That explains it, then,” Rarity said sadly as she stepped over to Twilight, giving her dejected-looking friend a reassuring nuzzle.

“Ah’m sorry, but how exactly does that explain anythin’?” Applejack questioned, looking back and forth between the two unicorns. “Explains about as much as Pinkie’s story ‘about how Equestria was made,” the earth pony grumbled, kicking at the path as they walked.

Rarity huffed dramatically as she looked over at the farmer. “Tell me, Applejack, have you ever bucked an apple tree whilst you’ve been particularly angry?” she asked briskly. The orange mare frowned, confused by the question, but nodded. “And was that particular kick stronger, perhaps, than you have been capable of if you were calmer?” A second, slower nod, though the point still eluded her. “Well, there you have it. Under normal circumstances, you’d limit how much force you used to kick a tree, knowing that if you strike too hard, you might injure yourself,” the pale unicorn explained, privately taking just a bit more pleasure than she really should have as she did. “That isn’t unique to earth ponies. I can’t count the number of times when I’ve tried to telekinetically lift something while upset, and instead crushed it outright. Or tried to push a needle through fabric, and ended up embedding it in the wall…of the next room,” she admitted, blushing slightly as she recalled that particular occasion. She never had gotten around to fixing the hole in the wall between her sewing room and kitchen.

“It’s also why unicorn foals need special care,” Twilight added, mostly recovered from the slip in her mood, though the memory of Princess Celestia on the brink of tears still left her with the urge to nuzzle her mentor. ‘Not that you need much of an excuse to want to do that, now do you?’ the voice inside her head mocked. She frowned, but ignored it; there was no point trying to argue with herself at the moment. “Unicorns acting without any check on their magic can be dangerous. They might teleport without any kind of control, or hurl objects around the room at dangerous speeds…or turn their parents into potted plants,” she added, eliciting a round of laughter from her friends. “Yes, yes, hilarious, I know,” she agreed. “But what if, instead of a scared little filly flailing blindly with her magic, it was an enraged goddess, her power amplified by some kind of monstrous entity, and in complete control of the application of her power,” Twilight pointed out, the laughter immediately replaced by shocked silence and a single squeak of fear, echoing among the darkened trees. “She cast an illusion over the entire world, hiding the sun from view without blocking its light and heat from reaching the surface. When Nightmare Moon was finally banished, Celestia dissipated the magic, returning the world to normal…except here, in the Everfree. That single spell, cast from the castle in the middle of the forest, was so powerful that even after more than a millennium, the nature of the Resilience effect still hasn’t cleared it.”

The six mares continued on it silence, five of them trying to comprehend how much power Nightmare Moon must have had at her peak, if the strange magic of the Everfree had made so little progress against it over the past thousand years.

Twilight, however, was kept silent by an entirely different thought. A thought that sent shivers along her spine. A thought she suddenly wasn’t entirely sure was her own.

‘A mean-spirited voice, whispering in the back of your mind, making you question your own self-worth?’ the strange voice posed, liltingly, clearly suppressing a desire to laugh. ‘I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for Luna…can you?’

****

The six mares carried in relative silence for half an hour, each lost in her own thoughts, attentive to any sign that the creatures of the forest meant them harm as Rainbow Dash flew overhead, watching for any of the larger monsters. Twilight’s mood was improved slightly by their quick pace; they had already crossed the river, putting them around twenty minutes ahead of her schedule. Rarity had been distressed that the sea serpent from their previous visit hadn’t been around, claiming that she’d hoped to see his “attractive moustache in all of its glory,” but otherwise nothing untoward had occurred. Unfortunately, that same stillness left her mind free to think about what she may or may not have said to herself. Was she just over-stressed, or was it possible that something else, something more sinister was at play. Celestia and Luna had both said, when she thought on it, that the force that had turned Luna into Nightmare Moon had been neutralized by the Elements. She hadn’t considered it before, but what if it was significant that they chose to say ‘neutralized,’ instead of ‘destroyed’ or ‘defeated.’ What if –

“Twilight? Is this a bad time? I can ask again later if you’re busy,” Fluttershy softly asked, snapping Twilight out of her introspective reverie. She noticed that the yellow mare was walking just to her side, her mane hanging forward, covering most of her face.

“Sorry, Fluttershy, I was…somewhere else, for a bit. What was the question?” She offered the shy mare an apologetic smile, receiving an honest one in return.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I was just wondering, since you said the ritual only worked when the sun and moon were both in the sky, if being in the Everfree might be a problem.” She raised her head, indicating the sky. “I mean, since the sun doesn’t ever shine in the forest, I didn’t know if that would mean the spell wouldn’t work, or make it harder to perform, since you can’t see when it’s time to start,” the gentle pegasus continued softly, her eyes suddenly going wide in a panic. “Not that I’m saying that that you can’t perform hard spells, of course! I’m sorry if you thought I meant that! Oh, and I’m sorry for hitting you earlier, I’d mentioned that, right?”

Twilight gave her friend a soft, lop-sided grin. “Easy, Fluttershy. You should know by now that it takes more than that to offend me. And I already told you I forgive you for what happened earlier, and I meant it. It was actually really nice to see how far you’d go for one of us, if we were in danger,” she offered comfortingly, giving Fluttershy’s neck a quick nuzzle. “As for the ritual, I’ve got a signal stone in my bags that’ll flash when its time, so that’s not a problem, and the timing of the ritual is to take advantage of a surge in the ley nexus caused by the convergence of solar and lunar energies, not because we need the light of either of them as a component.”

“Oh.” A single, simple syllable, and the silence resumed, broken only by the sound of stepping hooves, flapping wings, and rustling leaves.

And, unheard by the ponies, soft breathing coming from either side of the path, and the gentle sound of padded paws.

****

“You know…I’m kinda disappointed that was so easy.” Rainbow Dash looked across the chasm, doing what could best be described as sulking. The entire journey had passed unremarkably, and their goal lay just across a rope bridge

“Well, ta be fair, Dash, we didn’t have an angry goddess tryin’ ta stop us this time around,” Applejack calmly reminded the pouting pegasus. “It also ain’t the season for timber wolves ta be huntin’, we steered clear of any caves that mighta had dragons in ‘em, and cockatrices tend not to attack groups a’ ponies.” Twilight quirked a quizzical eyebrow at the farmer, who shrugged. “What? You try livin’ yer life so close ta the Everfree and mindin’ a rambunctious little sister. You’d learn that kinda stuff, too.”

“I’m sorry, Dash. I hadn’t realized you wanted us to be attacked my something scary,” Fluttershy said, hanging her mane in front of her face dejectedly. “If I had, I wouldn’t have sent Miss Hummingbird ahead to ask Andrew and Yvonne if they could follow us and scare off anything that got too close.” That revelation was met by five quizzically quirked eyebrows.

“Andrew…and Yvonne?” Twilight asked, slowly. “As in, Andrew the manticore?”

“Oh, yes. Yvonne is his wife. She’s a bit less friendly than Andrew, but still very nice, once you get to know her,” Fluttershy confirmed, her head bobbing happily as she talked about the she-manticore.

“So…we had a pair of manticores following- no, stalking - us the entire time? And none of us saw or heard anything?” Another bob of the pale pink mane, and visions of a new topic of study began the cloud Twilight’s judgment, as possible paper titles bounced around her mind. ‘Manticores: Enormous yet Stealthy.’ ‘Manticores: Bitey, Winged, Poisonous…Invisible?’ “Manticores: Oh Sweet Celestia There’s One Behind You Right Now!’ She chuckled to herself at the last one, knowing full well no respectable journal would touch anything with a title like that. The chuckle quickly turned into a cough as she noticed the others staring at her. “Right…Fluttershy, remind me to ask you to formally introduce me to…Andrew, later. But for now, I’d like to go get started setting up the ritual. We should have plenty of time, but I’d rather be ready early and have time to kill later,” she said, reasserting control over the situation. The manticores would have to wait, especially since she’d need the Princess’s permission to undertake a proper study. She might even propose a joint study with her brother; a giant monster that could hide in plain sight would almost certainly be an enormous tactical advantage if it could be tamed. The opportunity to spend more time with Shining Armor, and Cadence if she came along, would simply be a happy coincidence.

A slight spring in her step, Twilight began to trot across the bridge. The construct swayed as she crossed, but she paid the movement no heed. The bridge was only a few months old, constructed at the Princesses’ command for just such an occasion. The solid oak planks and thick, hemp rope had been empowered by both of the royal alicorns to protect them from both natural and unnatural damage. The ropes were anchored in great granite pillars, the bases of which were sunk deep into the living rock in holes created with magic. The forest had long since dissipated that magic, but the plinths remained, fused with the bedrock itself. The result was a bridge that should, according to Luna, stand for centuries before it even began to show the first signs of deterioration.

Following Twilight’s lead, Pinkie began to bounce energetically across the bridge, followed by Applejack and then Rarity. Fluttershy turned back and gave a happy wave of thanks to the unseen manticores, then followed behind the white unicorn. Rainbow Dash flew along the side of the bridge, drawing abreast of Twilight and matching her pace, her strong wings slowly beating to keep her aloft. “Listen, Twilight,” she began softly, her voice barely audible to her friend, facing straight ahead in hopes that the other four wouldn’t realize she was talking to the unicorn, “do you think that I could talk to you about something kind of…personal, when we get back? Without the others, or Spike, or anypony else around?” The pegasus bit her lip, looking at the forward-facing unicorn out of the corner of her eye, trying to keep from blushing. “I’ve got some questions about a couple of…special spells I read about, and I was hoping you could help me out with them.” Twilight gave a shallow nod, barely discernible from the normal bobbing of her head as she walked. “Thanks, Twilight.” Dash picked up speed, flying quickly to the far end of the bridge, not bothering to look behind her to see the tell-tale twitch of Twilight’s eye.

Twilight stopped when she reached the far end of the bridge, stepping aside to let Pinkie bounce ahead and join Rainbow Dash, who had already flown into the castle. As Rarity stepped back to solid ground, Twilight stepped back over to the other unicorn, tilting her head to the side with a forced, nervous smile. “Applejack, I forgot to tell Rarity something about the ritual’s magic that might have a strange effect on her, as a unicorn,” she lied as the earth pony made to join them. “Could you do me a favor, and make sure that Dash understands that the Princesses probably won’t appreciate any Daring Do-inspired acts of archaeologically-motivated theft in their old castle?” The farmer nodded solemnly, and chased after Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash. The purple mare held up a hoof, waiting until Fluttershy had finished her own crossing. “So, Rainbow just asked to talk to me, privately, about some ‘special magic’ when we get back,” she whispered solemnly, nodding as the two other mares frowned. “I’m open to suggestions, or to one or both of you faking an emergency when she gets to the library to talk.” Twilight tilted her head to the side, considering the options. “Come to think of it…let’s not rule out provoking an actual emergency,” she added, her voice and expression leaving her friends unsure if she was kidding. She looked back at the bridge and sighed. “Now I really wish the Princesses had made the bridge wide enough for two ponies to walk abreast.”

Rarity draped a foreleg over Twilight’s neck, frowning in sympathy. “Perhaps tomorrow morning I could suggest the idea of ‘Cutie Mark Crusader arsonists’ to Sweetie Belle?” she jokingly suggested, trying to lighten the lavender mare’s mood. She suppressed a flinch when Twilight instead nodded.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Rarity.” She sighed again, and began walking towards the castle, Rarity and Fluttershy in tow. “Just…keep thinking, please. I can’t see any conclusion to that conversation that doesn’t end poorly for somepony.” The soft sound of grass bending underhoof gave way to the sharper sound of hooves on stone after a few dozen steps, and the trio found themselves within the castle proper. The cavernous entry hall echoed with twin gasps of surprise, and Twilight nodded, her melancholy diminishing as her friends gaped at the changes to the ancient structure.

On their previous visit, the castle had been a shambles, the walls collapsing, the pillars crumbling, large sections of the roof destroyed by the ravages of time and battle, the stones of the floor cracked or missing, allowing the plant life to grow in the structure. Now, the entry hall stood in glory, great blocks of smoothed granite and grey mortar framing the chamber, thirty feet wide and seventy long. Gleaming, grey marble pillars, carved in the same style as the ancient originals, joined with vaulted archways to support a roof forty feet high, made from the same granite as the walls. Glowstones, carved in the image of the sun and moon, cast their light from brackets on the pillars, the crystals native to the Everfree, and unaffected by its magic. The floor resembled a checkerboard, black marble titles engraved with Luna’s moon cutie mark next to white marble with Celestia’s sun, all polished to mirror sheen, set so masterfully as to appear seamless. Flanking the great, banded oak door at the far end of the hall stood two great statues of the Princesses, carved from the same marble as the floor, their cutie marks embellished in gold, silver, and diamond, their faces and manes life-like, instead of the traditional, stylized statues found in Canterlot Castle. The statues reared back on their hindlegs, the sisters embracing above the door, necks entwined, enormous diamond tears set into their faces, reunited after a millennium apart.

Applejack, Pinkie, and Dash stood in the center of the hall, transfixed by the statues, even the energetic pink pony left stunned by the sight. They barely acknowledged their friends as the other joined them, ten moist eyes locked on the tableau. Smiling to herself, the problems of her coming conversation forgotten for a moment, Twilight cleared her throat, breaking the trance-like effect the statues had on her friends, and titled her head to the side of the central path and inclined it slightly, drawing another round of gasps from her friends. Set so that they were visible between the archways on either side of the hall were six sets of matched stained glass windows, twenty feet tall and ten wide at the base, crowned by a pointed arch and framed from behind with glowstone to shine even in the constant night of the Everfree. Nearest the entrance, a red apple stood above a field of green and a yellow-maned, orange earth pony, standing in triumph, a pale purple leg gripped between her hooves and disappearing out of frame. Next, a pale yellow pegasus against a field of wavy crimson, her face obscured by her pink mane, a purple thorn held in her teeth, a pink and blue butterfly floating above. The third window showed a pink mare, head thrown back in laughter, against a background in shades of brown, resembling the gnarled bark of a tree, a blue balloon at the peak. An elongated, four sided diamond crowned the fourth window, as a purple-maned, white-coated unicorn stood against a river of pale blue and opaque white, a violet scale held in her mouth. Second to last, a cerulean pegasus swept through a purple sky, her seven-hued mane swept back in flight, a rope clutched in her mouth as a tricolored lightning bolt stood frozen above her. Finally, against a field the seven colors of the rainbow, a purple unicorn stood, eyes open wide and set with two pure white glowstones, a golden tiara atop her blue and pink mane, a stylized sun and moon, joined in balance, behind her head, and a pink, six-pointed star at the window’s peak.

“So…awesome,” Dash finally managed to choke out, unwittingly using the classic meaning of the term as she flew up to examine ‘her’ window.

Rarity sat on her haunches, transfixed by her own image wrought in glass, lead, and jewels. “When…how…where?”

Pinkie stared at each of the windows in turn in silence, already planning a ‘We have nifty windows of us’ party, trying to decide if it should precede, follow, or run alongside the ‘We have nifty new powers’ party she was already planning.

Applejack had joined Rarity in sitting, staring on in slack jawed amazement, though the impossibly rational part of her brain wondered why her hat was absent from the image.

Fluttershy, ducked her head down, let her mane fall forward to conceal her cheeks, blushing a brighter crimson than the background of her window, and her mouth, broken into a wide, happy smile.

Twilight chuckled at her friends reactions, remembering her own response to first seeing the statue. Celestia and Luna said it had taken them five minutes to revive her after she passed out, accompanied by dazed muttering that she wasn’t worthy. Stamping a foot gently against the tile floor, careful to use only enough force to get everypony’s attention without damaging the marble, she explained, “After we rescued her with the Elements, Luna was very weak. So much of her magic had been tainted by Nightmare Moon’s corruption, that when the taint was burnt away she was practically powerless, and physically weakened.” She paused, wondering how much of the truth to reveal to her friends. She quickly decided that, in this instance, the partial truth would be enough. “The Princesses both decided that it would be better if Luna didn’t stay in Canterlot, while she recovered from everything. And, since this castle is built over a ley nexus, she could regain her power more quickly by staying in proximity to it,” she continued, leaving out the fact that Luna, in her weakened state, hadn’t been able unable to maintain her immortality. The sisters had feared that, were she to go immediately to Canterlot and try to resume her duties, her very life would have been in danger from well-meaning nobles or ill-intentioned cultists, a risk neither alicorn had been willing to take. “While she was recovering, though…she got bored, and…‘homesick,’ I guess, for the time she’d left behind. So,” Twilight gestured around the chamber, “with Celestia’s help and the skills of the royal artisans, she started to rebuild the old castle. After she recovered enough, she took her place in Canterlot, but she kept coming back to work here, when she could find time.” She chuckled to herself, remembering a conversation with the Princess of the Night. “That was actually why she came to Ponyville for Nightmare Night, she told me; she had been overseeing the restoration of one of the towers, when one of the workponies mentioned it in passing. She was so excited that there was a festival in her honor, she rushed off with her guards without finding out the whole story, and then…well, you all remember what happened next.” The others nodded, remembering what was unanimously regarded as the best Nightmare Night Ponyville had ever had.

“That’s all very interesting, Twilight, and it certain explains why the castle is so much less…ruined than before,” Rarity observed, still unable to break her gaze away from the window representing the act that had proven her the bearer of Element of Generousity. “It still doesn’t entirely explain why there are giant windows of the six of us that, judging by the materials involved and the apparent skill that went into making them, are quite probably worth more than some ponies make in a lifetime. Each.”

Twilight chuckled again, nervously this time. “Ah, well, you have to remember, Luna comes from a different time, when ponies did things differently. Before she was banished, if a pony saved your life, it was tradition that you owed them your life, literally. So, since we saved her from being Nightmare Moon, Luna…kind of thinks she owes each of us a massive, massive debt,” the lavender unicorn offered, still embarrassed by the idea. “Celestia managed to talk her down from most of it, explaining that ponies didn’t really do that anymore, but she still wanted to honor us. Hence, the windows. And a few statues. And some paintings. And…a few other things best not mentioned right now,” she said hurriedly, a blush once more coloring her cheeks as she recalled some of the additional honors that she didn’t want her friends to be aware of just yet. “Personally, I’m just glad Celestia managed to handle it as well as she did. She said that Luna’s first inclination was to try to find a way to – get this – marry all of us.” Her blush deepened, accompanied by rising color on four other sets of cheeks. She frowned as she saw the contemplative look worn by a certain white unicorn. “Rarity, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, stop thinking it,” the purple mare demanded, the other unicorn wincing as she was caught. “We all know you prefer stallions, so don’t even jokingly suggest that Luna marry you just so you can be a princess,” she clarified, more exasperated than angry.

“Twilight, do you truly think so little of me?” the designer asked, a foreleg thrown across her head in a wounded gesture. “I would certainly never take advantage of anypony’s feeling of obligation for my own benefit in such a base manner for so shallow a prize,” she huffed, privately bemoaning the lack of cushioned surfaces to faux-faint upon. “Though, if Princess Luna were to offer her hoof to me, well…what kind of pony would I be if I broke her heart by saying no? Oh, such is my burden, that I would accept the life of a Princess-Consort, which I’m sure everypony would shorten to simply ‘Princess’ for convince, to an attractive goddess, putting her needs and desires above my own.”

“And tha Pony Award fer Best Actress in a Drama goes to…” Applejack deadpanned, sending the group into a fit of giggles. As the laughter subsided, Twilight beckoned them on towards the far doors, leading the group further into the partially restored castle and towards the secret chamber containing their goal.

Once the door was closed again, the walls to either side of it seemed to shimmer and bend, before the two unicorns released the Chameleon spells which had hidden them, a stallion and mare, both clad in the armor and visage of the Night Guard. The mare pointed at her companion, then jerked her head to the outer door. The stallion closed his eyes, his horn flaring to life and wrapping his body in a dull grey aura for a few seconds, before his form dissolved into mist. The mare, satisfied, restored the effect of her chameleon spell, glancing between her partner’s gaseous form and the door the six mares had recently passed through, silently questioning why the Elements of Harmony were in her mistress’ fortress, and what response her princess would require of her.

****

Luna peered over the balcony’s railing at the training chamber below, distractedly watching her guards train. Occasionally, upon completion of a drill, one of her soldiers would turn towards her perch and bow before the Princess, their golden eyes lighting up with glee when she inclined her head slightly, turned the corners of her mouth up almost imperceptibly, or, if she felt especially generous, raised her left forehoof from the midnight blue velvet of the pillow she sat upon and offered the pony a dignified wave. She rarely offered verbal praise, out of simple necessity; even the mildest compliment from the Lunar Princess had the tendency to leave the recipient as close to a foal having been congratulated by a demanding parent as military discipline would allow. And sometimes, even that discipline was not enough, she remembered with a smile, recalling the first time a grown stallion in full battle armor had leapt up and thrown his arms around her in strong hug, one which immediately tightened and was joined by a delightful choking sound as he realized what he was doing.

The choking had only become more pronounced when she had returned the hug, laughing boisterously as she promoted him for his nerve. She appreciated the affection, as a mother would from her child, basking in the approval of her guards in particular, and her subjects in general, and they, in turn, respected her for her openness. It seemed that, over time, her sister had become, if not less caring, less open in her displays of approval to their little ponies, and the presence of a royal goddess not bound up in a thousand years of ceremony and protocol was appealing to much of the population. The realization of her sister’s self-imposed loneliness during her banishment continued to aggrieve her, but each time she raised the prospect of the two of them spending more time among their subjects, the Solar Princess responded with a cryptic smile, and an equally cryptic promise of “soon,” leaving the younger goddess exasperated, a condition exacerbated by the recent emotional distance of a young, purple unicorn.

Luna looked up at the ceiling of the training chamber, obscuring any view of her mouth from below, and frowned, returning to the thoughts that left her distracted from the efforts of her guards. She counted Twilight Sparkle as one of only three true friends, and occasionally wondered she might have been cheating, counting her sister as a friend. But since the wedding, and the changelings, the mare had begun to grow steadily more distant from the Princesses, despite her more frequent visits to Canterlot. The Princess of the Night recalled the initial pain after realizing the unicorn was avoiding her, thinking that she had done something to offend the mare. In her grief, she had gone so far as to dispatch one of her guards, Breeze Touch, a pegasus mare particularly adept in silent flight, to follow Twilight after one of their truncated encounters. When the mare had returned to her princess with barely controlled tears, Luna had feared the worst; what she had received was more heartrending than she had feared.

“She was…crying, Princess” Breeze Touch had told her, the pegasus’s voice cracking as she gave her report. “Not just a little…full, body-wracking sobs, and she kept muttering to herself how awful she was, how she was…how she was being a terrible friend to you, my princess.” After Twilight’s next visit to Canterlot, the same report, and again, and again, to the point that Luna herself had begun to avoid the unicorn, to spare her any undue anguish. Then, Celestia had produced a letter from the mare, asking if she had offended Luna, asking the Solar Princess for help apologizing if she had, and it had been Luna’s turn to weep. She had sent a reply, assuring her sister’s student that she had caused no offense, and had met with Twilight, briefly, when next she arrived at the castle, confirming in the flesh that all was well between them. Yet Breeze Touch continued to report on the dark state of the unicorn’s mood until Celestia asked Luna to cease the surveillance. Forced to admit that having one of her best scouts shadow a unicorn of unimpeachable character, just to watch the mare cry, was no benefit to anypony, the younger alicorn had agreed, but she had argued that either or both of them should intervene directly, to learn what weighed so heavily on Twilight Sparkle. Celestia had shaken her head, a rare frown blemishing her features, and bade her sister let things run their course, and not interfere with her student’s use of the royal library and archives.

“The archives,” Luna whispered to herself, still staring at the ceiling. She had made good on her plan to look into whatever the young mare had been studying, what had sent her away from Canterlot so suddenly that day, when for months she had stayed until the small hours of the morning. Reasoning that Celestia had asked Luna not interfere with Twilight’s activities, she felt no compunction against speaking to the archivists, inquiring as to the unicorn’s studies. What she had discovered had disturbed her greatly.

Nothing. She had discovered nothing, at least nothing concrete. Nopony in the archives could tell her, with any certainty, what Twilight Sparkle had been working on for the past several months. She was easily led to stacks of texts in a language Luna herself had thought lost long ago, but none of the staff had any clue what, specifically, she had been working on.

None, at least, until one of the janitors recalled that he had seen the lavender unicorn handling an old scroll. An old scroll that nopony could locate for their princess, yet which, if part of the archives, could not be removed from the massive structure without setting off dozens of warnings, not even by a unicorn of Twilight’s abilities. Expected by her guards to preside over their training exercises, she had cursed the archivists, promising an accounting if they were unable to produce the scroll by the next time her moon set, and now she sat, as the stallions and mares in her service practiced and perfected the skills she expected of them, unable to focus on them, distracted by thoughts of ancient scrolls, dead languages, and an endlessly curious, impossibly powerful purple unicorn. Lost in thought, she absent-mindedly reached out, her horn flaring brilliantly, and set the moon upon its nightly course.

“Princess, forgive my intrusion, but there has been a…development,” a strangely ethereal voice spoke from beside her, snapping her from her reverie as the blue glow around her horn faded. She looked down in time to see a grey cloud coalesce into the translucent shape of one of her guards.

“You interrupt nothing, Strange Fate,” she assured him, recognizing him despite the effects of the glamour spell, even in his projected form. “Speak. Whatever had breached our castle must be dire indeed, for you to astral project to us without warning,” she commanded, drawing herself to her full seated height, before her lips curled into a predatory smirk. “Unless you hoped to ‘accidentally’ project into the royal bath? Again?” The stallion’s image flushed brilliant crimson at the alicorn’s teasing, briefly restoring Luna’s good spirits…until he composed himself enough to give his report.

“Princess Luna, approximately five minutes ago, the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony entered the castle proper, after an extended conversation in the entry hall. Per the orders issued jointly by both you and your sister, Shadow Pride and I made no effort to interfere with the passing of High Lady Sparkle or her compatriots,” the stallion reported, his voice distorted by the magic projecting his consciousness across many miles, scratchy and echoing. “However, we felt it wisest to report their presence in the structure, and ensure that one of the contingencies hadn’t been activa…Mistress? Are you alright?”

The Princess of the Night’s brow was furrowed, as she looked down at Strange Fate, shaking her head. “Sergeant Fate, listen very carefully. As soon as I finish speaking, end your projection spell. When you return to your physical form, you and Sergeant Pride are to exit the castle, and secure the area immediately outside. If nothing further has occurred one hour after moonrise, you may stand down and return to your standard duties. Do you understand?” Luna asked, her voice strained. The unicorn offered a single nod, and then dissipated into a quickly fading mist. Standing, the Princess flared her wings wide, and rapped her hooves against the stone balcony loudly, drawing the fully attention of her assembled guards. Visibly swallowing, she addressed them, using the full force of the Royal Voice. “My guards, your training this day is completed. Your Princesses require you to regroup in the Central Courtyard as swiftly as possible, along with any other members of the Lunar Guard currently in Canterlot that are not presently ill or on an active assignment,” she commanded, then spun on her hooves, not waiting to see the organized rush of ponies out of the chamber.

A dim aura enveloped her horn, sweeping through the castle in search of her sister, finding her already waiting in the Chamber of Dusk and Dawn. She shuddered at the name as her horn flared brightly to life, her magic enveloping her as the world swirled and contorted around her, and she teleported.

****

The chamber housing the ley nexus was, on the whole, unimpressive, especially compared to the rest of the rebuilt castle. The room was a simply cube, ten feet to a side; the walls were drab, rough-hewn granite blocks, streaked and spotted with imperfections, interrupted only by the door centered on one side. There were no furnishings to speak of, no carvings, not even any brackets for glowstones or torches. The only light in the room, as it happened, came from the only thing in the room that differentiated it from a particularly large dungeon, one feature that held the undivided attention of the five ponies standing by the sealed door, as Twilight Sparkle worked.

In the exact center of the room was, for lack of a more accurate term, a fountain. The primary difference was, the contents of a normal fountain tended to fall back towards the surface, while this ‘fountain’ conspicuously disregarded such mundane notions as gravity; fonts of pure magic tended to be funny like that. The pseudo-liquid of the ley nexus glowed a brilliant bluish-green and congealed in a sphere, two feet in diameter, the center of which floated exactly five feet from the center point of each wall, and provided the only light in the chamber. Twilight had been periodically dipping her hoof into the stream of magic that sustained the orb, the energy somehow maintaining physical cohesion enough for her to mark an elaborate pattern onto the floor, constantly referencing the translated scroll to ensure each line was perfectly placed.

Her saddle bags lay on the floor besides the door and her friends, safely out of the way, a small stone resting atop the enchanted containers, a stone which had just begun to glow a pale purple, nearly the same color as her coat. Luna must have just risen the moon, giving her a limited time to complete the preparations before Celestia lowered the sun beneath the horizon and the opportunity passed. She began to rush about the chamber on three legs, her fourth covered in magic as she hastily finished the ritual pattern, careful to avoid stepping on the lines, whorls, concentric circles, and geometric patterns that would channel and focus the power. Her friends watched in rapt silence as she completed the final portion of the design, six familiar symbols seeming to glow slightly brighter than the rest of the pattern.

Directly in front of the door, a single four-sided diamond; opposite it, a six-pointed star. To the right of the diamond, a stylized butterfly diagonally across the room, a lightning bolt divided into three segments. Completing the array, a balloon was drawn on the floor between the diamond and the bolt, and an apple was marked out between the star and the butterfly. The pulsing of the stone had grown more regular, and the orb of magic in the center of the chamber shone brighter as the confluence of celestial magic neared its peak. It was time.

“Girls, quick, stand on your corresponding symbol,” Twilight ordered as she took her own place, licking her hoof clean of the remaining liquid magic, smirking at the unsurprisingly familiar taste. Her friends hurried to their marks, each careful to step over, not on, the carefully drawn lines, and the unicorn focused on the pulsating source of concentrated magic before her, her horn shining brilliantly as she tapped into the primal magic the flowed through the planet, her body acting as a conduit for the power, directing it into the pattern she had painted onto the rough stone. The array flared to life with a jolt of raw power, the glow intensifying as the very air began to hum with power. Twilight Sparkle smiled, allowing herself a satisfied breath; she’d begun the process in time, and even if the sun set before she completed it, the surge of power would continue until she released it. Nothing could stop the ritual.

****

“Luna, what’s wrong?” Celestia asked, standing to meet her sister as Luna stepped quickly into the Chamber. “You look like the city is being attacked by changelings again.” The Princess of the Sun’s normally serene visage faded, her brow furrowed in concern, as she thought to add, “Is the city being attacked by changelings again?”

The darker alicorn shook her head, her ethereal mane cascading before her face in a nearly hypnotic display as she did. “Nay, sister, Canterlot stands at peace. It is my mind that is troubled, Tia.” The pearlescent alicorn quirked an eyebrow at her sister’s cryptic phrasing, gesturing with a forehoof for Luna to continue. “One of the guards left to stand watch over the old palace has contact me by astral projection, to inform me that Twilight Sparkle has arrived there, accompanied by the other Elements,” she explained, eyes focused on her elder sister, lips drawn tight against her teeth in concern.

Celestia merely blinked, the source of Luna’s concern still not apparent. “I’m still not sure I understand your agitation, Luna. While I obviously agree that the Everfree is a dangerous place to travel, regardless of the circumstances, I have absolute faith in my student’s ability to defend herself and her friends. And, as for their destination, perhaps our dear Twilight merely wants to show the other Bearers the renovations you have made to our ancient home,” Celestia suggested, adding, with a mischievous wink, “such as those lovely windows you designed for them?”

Luna felt the bright crimson bleeding through the midnight-blue of her cheeks, but pressed on. “No, sister, she…” she lowered her head and sighed. “Sister, after our last conversation, my…curiosity got the best of me, and I visited the archives to see what the precocious mare had been working on,” she explained, raising a hoof defensively as her sister rolled her eyes. “She was not there, sister, nor did I disturb the resources she had gathered, so you cannot accuse me of meddling. But, what I found…sister, she had gathered stack upon stacks of texts written in the ancient tongue, alongside newer translations. And one member of the staff recalled her examining a time-worn scroll. And now, she and her friends approach a source fount at the time of a surging…”

Celestia had walked slowly over to her agitated sister, and gently nuzzled the younger goddess, smiling softly as she did. For the thousand years of loneliness she had been forced to endure, that calm act of sisterly affection had been one of the things she missed most about her little sister, along with the Moon Goddess’ tendency to overreach to minor concerns, much like another powerful mare she could name. “Luna,” Celestia whispered softly, resting a hoof gently across her sister’s back, “I know what you’re getting at, but you need to relax. The last remaining copies of the texts with the underlying formulae are stored where only you or I can reach them, and warded so that only an alicorn can read them.” Celestia smiled into her sister’s mane, as she felt Luna start to relax, the nervous energy settling with each calming work. “Twilight Sparkle is certainly clever enough to be able to reproduce the work, if she had access to those books, but without them…well, much as I love my student, even I have to admit that she’d need the actual, original scroll to be able to replicate that ritual, if she wanted to perform it before she turned old and gray,” she continued, sharing a soft, good-natured laugh with her sister at the playful jab to the lavender unicorn. “And I know, much as it pained you, you destroyed that scroll, all those centuries ago.” And Celestia frowned, and stepped back, concern in her eyes as she felt Luna tense up beneath her foreleg, the elder goddess tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“S…sister…” Luna began, the color draining from her face, the stars in her mane dimming as she looked at her sister in alarm. “I…I did not destroy the scroll; I could not bring myself to. I gave it to you to destroy, don’t you remember?” she breathed, her voice a squeaky whisper. Before Celestia could respond, another sound echoed through the castle, a simple, five note progression, repeated twice. To almost any pony, those notes would mean nothing, would sound like a simple, calming melody. To the Royal Sisters, the divine rulers of Equestria, those notes were an alarm claxon which signaled one thing, and one thing alone.

The physical trappings of the Elements of Harmony had been teleported from their vault.

The physical trappings of the Elements of Harmony had been teleported from their vault, and the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony were at a ley nexus during twilight, when the magic would surge highest, just as a certain ritual, apparently far less destroyed than either princess had thought, demanded.

“Oh, buck me right in the face,” Celestia muttered sourly, as her face somehow became even whiter than normal.

“I have ordered the Lunar guard to muster in the courtyard, sister,” Luna offered, nervously. “Go, quickly. I shall rally them, and join you shortly.”

The words had barely even left her mouth when her older sister vanished in a nimbus of golden light, though Celestia had not teleported quickly enough to hide the tears welling in her eyes.

****

The array of liquid magic shone brighter and brighter with each passing moment, drawing more and more energy from the nexus with each passing instant. The sphere at the center of the chamber was less than half the size it had been when they’d arrived, and was growing small as the ritual spell consumed more and more power to sustain itself. And Twilight Sparkle stood, all of that energy focused through her, focused on her, a manic grin on her face as she tapped the pure source of magic and bent it to her ends. She could feel the furious pull of the magic, crashing against her like waves against stone, trying to break her, failing to break her. Slowly, as the energy flowed through her, the light began to change, the pale blue-green glow fading, replaced by her own deep red-violet energy, the sigils she and her friends stood on pulsing with a light all their own, matching the color of the gemstone representing each mare’s Element. The two pegasi and two earth ponies watched in awe, able to feel the power in the room; Rarity could actually see it, she the chaotic energy flowing into Twilight, the controlled power pouring out of her friend, power of a magnitude she could barely comprehend, let alone control.

The white unicorn was pulled from her wonder as a sudden rush of air and a nearly deafening thunder-like crack filled the room, and she felt something materialize around her neck. She glanced down to confirm, but knew what it was instinctively; the Amethyst Diamond, the representation of the Element of Generosity had appeared. A quick glance confirmed the presence of the full set, four other necklaces fastened around four other necks, the Tourmaline Star tiara sitting upon Twilight’s head, just behind her horn, her horn which was…

Rarity frowned, watching as two beams of energy sprang from Twilight’s horn, stretching across the room, striking Pinkie’s and Fluttershy’s necklaces, before another beam spread from them, the three ponies connected by a triangular link of light. The white unicorn cocked her head to the side, as the three linked mares were each surrounded by Twilight’s aura, before she winced, a sharp, tugging sensation growing at the base of her horn. Her confusion was replaced with fear as two pale blue streams of light shot out from her, her magic linking with the gemstones worn by Applejack and Rainbow Dash, surrounding them in her own aura field, despite her attempts to control the aura. “Twilight? Is…is this supposed to be happening, dear?” she called out, unable to keep the panic from her voice. Her eyes snapped forward, locked on her purple friend, the other mare’s head thrown back, her deep blue mane billowing around her head, moved by an unseen wind, arcs of violet lightning crackling along the strands. “Twilght? Twilight?!” Rarity called again, trying to snap the other unicorn out of her apparent trance. She tried to take a step forward, but her own magic bound her in place. Her head remained unrestrained, and a glance at the others confirmed they were in much the same predicament, at least to judge by the contorted looks of effort worn by Rainbow Dash and Applejack. Flutteshy’s head was hung low, her pale pink mane draped over her face as her body was wracked with quiet sobs of panic, while even Pinkie’s normal exuberance was sapped, replaced by a pained expression as, unbeknownst to Rarity, every muscle in the pink mare’s body tried to contort all at once; the doozy to end all doozies.

A burst of golden light shone from the corner of the room to Rarity’s left, each of the five mares still seemingly conscious of their surroundings looking in shock as Princess Celestia appeared in the chamber, taking in the sight with a strange, sad smile. “I’m sorry, my little ponies. I am so, so sorry,” the goddess said, her quiet voice echoing through the chamber. Before anypony could say another word, the orb in the center of the chamber collapsed completely, and the Bearers of the Elements knew only pure, unyielding whiteness.

Chapter 5

Two pairs of golden eyes stared out from beside the great archway leading into the Castle of the Royal Sisters, watching the bridge, their eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Strange Fate had relayed the Princess of the Night’s orders to his partner, exactly as instructed, and the pair had quickly moved to secure the stretch of land around the ancient structure and the bridge. Admittedly, they had no idea what they were securing it for, or against, but that was of little concern; their Princess had commanded the area be made safe, and her will was done. Now, the two unicorns waited, either for the allotted hour to pass by, or for…something else to happen. The pair’s horns glowed dimly, their magic at hand but unshaped, primed to discharge as burst of pure concussive energy if their concentration were disrupted.

Shadow Pride was the first to notice, her senses more attuned to the particular magic at play. It started as a slight shimmer in the air, like what one would expect to see on a hot day at a beach. The shimmer danced, and grew, and soon the space before the bridge seemed to ripple and bend, as though it were a piece of set dressing being prodded at from behind. The mare raised a hoof towards it, and her partner nodded. His talent may not have been related to spatial disruption magic, but even an earth pony would have been able to see what was happening by that point. The pair watched in awe as reality itself was rent asunder, a literal tear formed in the world; the view of the Everfree Forest replaced by the Central Courtyard of Canterlot Castle. Through the rift, the two ponies assigned to guard the ancient structure could see their brothers and sisters of the Night Guard, muscles tensed, horns alight, wings flapping, awaiting the command to move. And there, at the head of them all, stood a nightmare made flesh.

Princess Luna’s lips were curled back in a grim smile, her horn blazing like a torch as she tore the very fabric of existence apart as easily as she could tear paper, her eyes black and empty as the void, her entire body bathed in a shimmered aura of moonlight. She stepped through the tear, her starry mane whipped into a frenzy by the powers she had bent to her will, grimacing as she once more felt the taint of the millennium old magic, so familiar, so twisted. She hated that her eternal night still held in this place, tainting what it once had been, but could do nothing to remit her sin; she shuddered to think what kind of power would be needed to shatter the illusion. Still behind her, her soldiers waited, watching, as her first gilded hoof set down on the grass of the Everfree, her second, her third, her fourth. Her heart beat quickly, her mind raced with fear, and yet se maintained a slow, stately gait, knowing that her speed was immaterial. Celestia had teleported directly to the chamber; if it weren’t already too late when she arrived, she would manage the situation on her own; if it were too late, a few more seconds would make no difference.

When the Moon Goddess had completely passed through the aperture, the guards behind her began to follow in an organized rush, pouring through the rip. None of them had been told where they were going or what they were meant to do when they arrived. None of them had asked. Their princess had appeared before them, the air itself crackling with her power, and they had followed without hesistation. In ages past, when it was denied to her, she would have viewed such blind loyalty as her royal due. Now, she recognized the implications of that faith, and honored it.

She was halfway from the portal to the castle’s entrance when it happened. She felt a chill run through her body, and the glow surrounding her horn dimmed significantly. The Princess of the Night’s eyes flew open as around her, her unicorns cried out in panic, their own horns dark; her pegasi grunted in exertion, suddenly heavier; her sure-footed earth ponies stumbled. On all of them, the glamoured image of the Night Guard flickered. Magic itself seemed to desert them, only for a moment, only for a few brief seconds, but the charge was broken, the guard looking towards their princess for guidance. Guidance she couldn’t offer them, as tears streamed silently down her face, leaving matted fur in their wake. Unable to find her voice, she raised her left forehoof, signaling the guards to hold. She glanced behind her, waiting until the last of the rallied Night Guard was through, and let the rift pull itself shut.

Drawing herself to her full height, she addressed the assembled ponies, speaking loudly enough to be heard, but not invoking the full Royal Voice, her message short but clear, “Wait here, all of you. I shall return shortly with further instructions.” Without waiting, she once more strode towards the castle at a dignified, purposeful pace. She nodded as she passed Strange Fate and Shadow Pride, disappearing into the grand entry hall. Then, with a discrete flash or her horn, Luna deadened the sound of her hooves against the marble floor, raised a wall of artificial darkness behind her…and broke into a dead run, the door thrown open as she rushed towards the central chamber, towards what was once the resting place of the Elements of Harmony, and what she knew, already, was their resting place once again.

As she passed through the final set of doors, her lurched to a stop, her heart lurching with her as Celestia’s head emerged from the hidden staircase, her horn aglow. As the Princess of the Sun stepped from behind the great stone form that had once held the dormant elements, her sister saw the final confirmation. Celestia’s wings were spread wide and level, her magical aura gently cradling the still, purple form resting on her back, the indigo mane draped against her neck.

Reverently, she lowered the body to the ground, legs tucked gently beneath. The younger alicorn slowly walked towards her sister, gaze locked on the motionless form, tears once more streaming from her eyes. Wordlessly, she reared back, and pulled her sister into a tight embrace, nuzzling the Sun Goddess as Celestia wrapped her legs around Luna, shedding tears of her own. “You were right, Luna. Twilight found the scroll, found the ritual, completed it,” Celestia acknowledged, her voice shaking. “My dear, sweet little student, always too clever for her own good,” she continued, wryly, pain breaking through. “If I had listened to you, sister…if we had put a stop to this earlier…”

“Nay, sister, hold your thoughts. Down that path lies madness and despair,” Luna admonished, shaking her head vehemently. “You thought the magic lost to the ages, the requisite knowledge locked safely away. You thought that it would take Twilight Sparkle years to replicate the spell, if she was even capable of doing so. This is not your fault, Tia.” Luna ended the embrace, her hooves landing gently on the marble floor. She looked down sorrowfully at the lavender-coated body, exchanging a sad smile at the peaceful countenance. “We had best retrieve the others from the chamber, sister. Then…my Night Guard stands ready outside the castle, awaiting orders.”

Celestia closed her eyes and drew a deep, steadying breath, a strange look passing over her face for the briefest of moments, before she nodded, and walked down the steps, her sister in tow, to carry on the grim, sacred task ahead of them.

****

Twenty minutes had passed since Luna had entered the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, and her guards still stood at the ready. The initial rush of adrenaline had passed, replaced with a more subdued energy, as the assembled ponies whispered amongst themselves, wondering what was happening within the stone walls, when Luna would return with further orders.

The wait would be shorter than most had assumed, as Luna suddenly emerged from the palace, and the Night Guard snapped to attention. When the dark armored ponies saw Princess Celestia step out behind the Moon Goddess, it took every ounce of discipline that had been drilled into them over the past months to keep their jaws from falling open, and even that was not enough for some of them, especially when the Solar Goddess raised her head to gaze upon the assembled soldiers.

Even years after her return, Luna was, in many ways, an unknown quantity in the eyes of her subjects. She could go from playful to serious in an instant, and what she found worthy of uproarious laughter one day, the next she would meet with disdain. Someponies found that quality endearing, found that it made the darker alicorn more approachable; others found it terrifying, still frightened that she would return to the path of evil and again try to bring about the eternal night, or simply destroy everypony and be done with it. Regardless of one’s personal feelings, the Princess of the Night stood in stark contrast to the Princess of the Day, the benevolent alicorn who had ruled over Equestria for most of recorded history, and all of popular history. The caring, compassionate alicorn, who cared deeply for her subjects. The good-natured alicorn who was known to, on occasion, indulge in a harmless prank, always with a serene smile on her face.

The white-coated alicorn who gazed out across the assembled ponies, surrounded by a corona of solar energy, her eyes hard and tormented.

The Night Guard gazed on the Solar Princess with a mixture of fear and awe, the unicorns instinctively taking a step away from the maelstrom of power that surrounded the alicorn, and waited, waited for her to speak, waited for her to proclaim eternal day, waited for her to sing the song that would end Equestria. Seeing their normally serene princess in such a state left them with a strange, unnamable fear, and more than one pony wondered if they were about to face karmic retribution for setting ants on fire as foals. They steadied themselves, expecting to hear the Royal Voice, accustomed to it from Luna’s occasional use. There was speculation that the princesses channeled magic through the Voice, compelling obedience in those who heard it. Others suspected that it was merely the raw power of the alicorn’s own personality. It made little difference, in the end. For when Celestia spoke, her voice was neither loud nor booming.

“Everypony, listen very carefully to what I am about to say,” the Sun Goddess said, her voice hard, and level, and, in some primal sense, terrifying. It was the kind of voice a spider would use to converse with a fly, that a cat would use to greet a mouse. “First and foremost, let me make myself unequivocally clear on one point. Under no circumstances are any of you to divulge anything you have seen or will see, or think you have seen, or have guessed at, or might later deduce, to anypony, ever. The only thing you are to tell the ponies you are gathering is that their Princesses require their presence. For all intents and purposes, each and every one of you spent this night in Canterlot, resting. If I ask you, nay, if I and my sister, together, order you to truthfully recount the events of this night, you are to claim you never left Canterlot.”

The Princess of the Sun stopped, and her horn flared to life, the solar fire surrounding her glowing more intensely, plumes of flame leaping from her body. “If I ever hear anypony speak of this night, if I ever hear your foals speak of this night, if I hear your descendents a thousand years hence speak of this night…you will beg, you will wish, you will pray, that the rumors about those I punish are true. But let me assure you, my little ponies…I do not send all those who displease me to the moon.

“I can do so much worse.”

For a terrible instant, there was no sound among the assembled stallions and mares. Not a word was uttered, not a breath taken, their very hearts frozen in their chests by Celestia’s threat. Satisfied that she was completely understood, she continued. “This night, a terrible tragedy has befallen all of Equestria. The six mares who wielded the powers of the Elements of Harmony…have died.” She paused again, giving the guard time to realize the implication of that news. “Much as it pained all involved, this possibility was accounted for, and the Bearers provided lists of the ponies they wished to be notified, in this eventuality.” She took a breath, steadying herself, checking her composure. “Luna,” she began, her gaze still focused on the assembled ponies, “of the pegasi here assembled, who are your six fastest fliers? Not the most agile. Raw speed.”

Luna looked out at her guards, eyes shimmering as she looked through the glamours, considering carefully before she answered. “Swift Wing, Cloud Bucker, Peregrine, Arrow Flight, Tail Wind, and Lazy Afternoon, sister. Though obviously, none near as fast as…”

Celestia cut her sister off, quirking an eyebrow as she continued to gaze out at the guards. “Lazy Afternoon?”

“Always took it as a challenge, your highness,” the stallion in question answered quickly, less the distressed princess make an example out of him.

“Very well. The six of you are to fly to Cloudsdale at best speed. Once you arrive, seek out the royal administrator for the city; at this hour, I suspect she will be found at her residence. Upon locating her, instruct her to provide the sealed files marked Kindness and Loyalty. Find the ponies listed in those files, and bring them to Canterlot as quickly as possible. Commandeer chariots if they aren’t especially quick fliers. If they refuse to accompany you, you are authorized to compel them by force. But remember. Tell. Them. Nothing.” Each of the final three words was punctuated by a flare of magic arcing from the alicorn’s aura. “Now, go.”

As the six pegasi sped off, Celestia turned her attention to the twenty-six which remained. “The rest of you are to fly to Ponyville as quickly as you’re able. Upon arrival, you are to find the mayor, and retrieve the sealed files she received marked Honesty, Laughter, and Generousity. Beyond that, your orders are the same as those sent to Cloudsdale. Find the ponies, and bring them to Canterlot. Also, retrieve the baby dragon, Spike, from the town’s library. Be aware, some of the ponies on one of the lists live some distance from the town itself. Now, go.” The remaining pegasi flew off, leaving only unicorns and earth ponies to feel Celestia’s withering gaze.

“Inside the castle, you will find the Bearers. Five of them are laid on litters that my sister formed from pure moonlight. The earth ponies are to lift them, while the unicorns help to stabilize with their magic. If a single hair on their coats is out of place from being jostled, the one at fault will find himself or herself reassigned to the darkest reaches of the frozen north, without survival gear or rations.” Celestia concentrated, and her horn flared brighter, for an instance painful to look at, her face darkening. “And by my own blood, if anypony disturbs the sixth, they will never find a piece big enough to be sure it used to be you. I shall bear my student home; it is the least I can offer her.”

As the Night Guard scrambled to attend to their assigned tasks fleeing into the castle as quickly as they could while remaining dignified, Celestia finally released her magic, her shoulders slumping wearily. Luna, who had been standing silently at her side, stepped closer, allowing her sister to lean against her, her voice barely even a whisper. “You do recall that the rift spell I used to bring them here will disrupt the short-term memory of any living being that passes through it and who does not possess the power of an alicorn, yes?” she asked, receiving a nod in return. “So they won’t possibly remember anything that happened tonight in another few hours?” Another nod. “So, dear sister, the threats compelling their silence…stress relief?”

“A thousand years worth, Luna,” was the tired reply. “One of the greatest burdens of being a benevolent goddess is having to resist the urge to remind some of our subjects that the sun can burn, as well as nurture. And everypony is still afraid to relax. ‘Benevolent’ just means you don’t flay them for fun, they seem to think.” Celestia looked up at the sky, feeling the weight of her very, very long life. “And after tonight…I think I earned a small release.” And with that, Celestia turned, and walked back into the castle, her little sister in tow, to ensure the remaining members of the Night Guard didn’t mistreat their precious burdens.

****

The brown stallion led the way back through town, looking rather chagrined as he did. “I’m really sorry about all that, girls,” he apologized for the fifth time, glancing back at the four grinning fillies behind him. “From what Dinky’d told me about you three, I was so sure at least one of you would have a destruction cutie mark, and it seemed like if you were doing it intentionally…” his voice trailed off as he noticed the grey pegasus walking a step to the side was rolling her eyes at him. “Right, never mind that. The statues are smashed and gone, so all’s well there, and I think I promised you lot some ice cream.” He paused, and looked at his wife. “I did promise them ice cream, didn’t I?” She shook her head, chuckling. “Well, never mind that, I’m promising it now. So, ice cream. Or pastries, if you’d prefer. Maybe both together. Oh, or those long cookies, the spongy ones, what are they called? Fantastic dipped in custard…” he rambled along happily as he led the bemused mare and excited fillies past the library, towards Sugarcube Corner.

“Hey, put me down!” a young voice snapped from inside the library, and the little group turned towards the great tree in time to see a trio of bat-winged pegasi step out in single file, the leader carrying a struggling Spike, his teeth lightly pinching into the back of the baby dragon’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” the dragon threatened, his tail whipping up to strike his captor’s cheek for emphasis. The guard winced, but held his mouth closed, looking back at the mare behind him for support.

“Ah, excuse me, sorry,” the brown stallion said, cheerfully, as he stepped towards the guards, while Derpy stepped back towards the foals, eyeing the other pegasi wearily. The Night Guard all turned to face him, the mare in the middle stepping forward. “Now, I’m sure you fine, upstanding members of the royal guard have a very good reason for take a young dragon from his home, despite his protests, even if you do look like something straight out of a foal’s nightmare, no offense,” he began, genuinely, “but, if you wouldn’t mind terribly, could I ask what that reason might be?”

The mare nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Breeze Wing of the Royal Guard, sir. There’s been a…” she paused, panic flashing through her eyes as she remembering Princess Celestia’s orders, and her threat. “A situation, about which I’m regrettably unable to elaborate. My subordinates and I, along with a number of other pegasi, have been dispatched, on the direct authority of the Royal Sisters, to retrieve certain individuals and convey them to Canterlot. Despite what I know this must look like, the dragon is completely safe. You have my word on that.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “You also have my apologies for any distress we’ve caused you, your companion, or the fil…lies…”

Her voice trailed off as she actually looked at the four fillies, recalling the files the mayor had shown them minutes earlier. She looked at the other mare beside her, nodding towards the youngsters, and eyebrow quirked inquisitively. Her subordinates eyes narrowed, and the foals stepped back from the predatory gaze. A shallow nod from the pegasus, and the two mares sprang forward, heads low. With practiced ease, the Night Guard mares lifted Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle off the ground, tossing them into the air. The two fillies shrieked, their Crusaders cloaks flapping as the fell, landing hard on the pegasi’s backs as Derpy dove between the strange mares and her daughter, wings flared aggressively. Breeze Wing looked at the grey mare, and nodded approvingly. “Apologies, miss, but our orders are to take these fillies as well. Their sisters were…involved, in the situation, and their families are already likely en route.” She looked behind her, Sweetie Belle clinging nervously to the strange mare’s back. “Hold tight, little one,” she said with a gentle smile…or at least, as gentle a smile as one could have with fangs. She spread her wings, and the three disguised pegasi leapt into the air, wings flapping powerfully as the carried two frightened fillies and one annoyed dragon towards Canterlot.

“Well…didn’t see that coming,” the brown stallion observed, running a hoof through his darker brown mane. “Normally, I don’t much approve of anypony making off with a pair of frightened foals, and I’d suggest we should try to follow them, except the Cakes just walked out of Sugarcube Corner with their twins, accompanied by another group of those pegasi.” He waved over at the Cakes, and they waved back. “They seem more confused than worried, so that mare was probably telling the truth. A bit unorthodox, but if time is a factor I’m not sure we can blame her for being rough.” He paused, and frowned. “Of slightly more immediate concern, is that I’m sorry, girls. I’m afraid there won’t be any ice cream tonight, after all.”

“Priorities, sweetie. Right now, let’s get Scootaloo home, and then get inside ourselves,” Derpy suggested, wings tucked back against her side as she wrapped a leg around Dinky protectively. “That mare looked nervous, and I’m not sure I want to be out and about on a night that can make a pony like that nervous.”

The stallion considered for a second, then nodded. “Better idea. You bring Dinky home, make sure everything is set at home, and I’ll bring Scootaloo back to her parents, then join you.” The grey pegasus nodded, her maternal instincts winning out over the common sense of safety in numbers. “Right, Scootaloo, come on, time to get you home.” It was only then that the two adults stopped, and heard the sound of quiet sobbing, and turned to see its source.

The orange filly was sitting on her haunches, trembling, her burgundy cloak pulled tightly around her, tears streaking down her face as the couple’s daughter looked nervously between her friend and her parents. “Scootaloo…come on, you heard my dad, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are going to be fine…” she offered uncertainly.

Scootaloo shook her head violently. “That…that isn’t it,” she sobbed, fighting to regain control of herself. “The pegasus said that…that Applejack and Rarity were involved in whatever happened, and see looked scared when she talked about it,” the filly squeaked out, standing shakily and looking towards Canterlot in silence, barely able to make out the form of the three pegasi in flight, several chariots trailing behind them. “And Rainbow Dash said she was going to be with them tonight…what if something happened to her?” she whispered, and broke down in tears again, worried for her idol.

She offered no resistance as Dinky’s father scooped her up onto her back, and began walking slowly towards the filly’s house. By the time they arrived, she had cried herself to exhaustion, leaving the stallion to explain the situation to two very confused, very worried ponies.

****

The castle’s infirmary wasn’t particularly large, especially in comparison to the rest of the structure. Most of the royal palace had been built to a grand scale, a visual display of power and prestige, meant to unsettle all but the most jaded, with grand pillars, ancient tapestries, soaring arches, and towering windows throughout. And in the ballrooms, the grand hallways, the throne room, the bed chambers, such ostentatious design was a valuable tool. Even in some of the offices, embellishment had its place. There was, however, a limit, however; while it was appropriate for the offices of the Chamberlain, for instance, to display ten-foot tall statues of the royal sisters worked in gold and silver, Celestia had been less than amused at seeing another, identical set in the office of the Head Janitor.

Thankfully, either through careful hiring or, as was far more likely, sheer dumb luck, none of the ponies who had held the office of Royal Physician had felt much of an urge to embellish their personal fiefdom within the castle, even under the pretense of function; most visitors and patients admitted to feeling underwhelmed. There was a single, moderately-sized (by castle standards) chamber, large enough to fit two dozen or so ponies comfortably. Like most every other room in the palace, the floor and walls were made of white marble. Unlike most every other room in the palace, the stone was left with a dull, sterile white, rather than given a polished gleam. At the far end of the room, opposite the simple chestnut doors, was a small, partitioned area, stocked with minor medical supplies and occupied at all times by a member of the castle’s medical staff, to administer to minor scuffs, bruises, aches, or pains the legion of ponies that kept the castle functioning might endure during the day. Next to the partition, there was a set of double doors, built to swing in either direction, and a short corridor.

There were eleven oak doors in that corridor, leading to eleven rooms. The door at the far end of the corridor led into a supply closest, well stocked with medical supplies both standard and exotic in the event of particular need. The doors on each side of the hallway each opened onto a combination of an examination room and a recovery room, for those rare occasions when a member of the palace staff might have an ailment that required more advanced treatment. In general, these rooms saw little use, as most patients who required treatment more advanced than what could be provided in the main room were either sent to one of the more robust hospitals in Canterlot, or treated with magic. Most of those who stayed in those rooms were those who lived at the castle; Twilight Sparkle had spent more than a few nights in those rooms, when dealing with certain situations healing magic had no answer for.

‘And now,’ Celestia reflected, ‘she rests here once more.’ The princess sat on the bare stone of the floor next to the bed, looking towards her student’s lifeless form. She was laid out carefully on the bed, on her side, legs towards her teacher, her face calm. The Solar Princess, caught in the moment, leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against the warm flesh of the unicorn’s, her ethereal mane brushing against her student’s nose. Five of the other rooms had been pressed into similar service, one for each of the other Bearers; within a seventh sat Twilight’s parents, Shining Armor, and Cadence, retrieved from within Canterlot by Celestia herself moments after she, Luna, and the Night Guard had returned to the city through another magical rift. Her ears twitched as the door into the room hummed, and Celestia stood as Luna stepped into the room, sparing a quick, sad glance towards the bed before she focused her gaze on her sister

“The last of my pegasi have returned, sister. The dragon is with Twilight’s family and our…niece; the other ponies are in the main room, along with the Day Guards you roused,” the Princess of the Night announced quietly, her own melancholy over the night’s events reducing her voice to the gentle tones she had learned from a newly lost pegasus. “Those who of the Night Guard who accompanied us have since succumb to the effects of rift travel, and rests, though judging by the response of the assemblage, your orders were obeyed to the letter. Most of the families seem confused and nervous, even frightened, but none yet mourn.” The dark alicorn paused a moment, in thought. “At least, we assume they do not mourn. We find it difficult to discern emotion in the case of the Pie family.” She glanced again towards the still lavender form. “Sister, it has been nearly three hours.”

Celestia responded with a solemn nod, lifting a hoof to smooth the indigo mane. “I know, Luna, but…would you forgive me were I to ask to stay with Twilight?”

The Princess of the Night dipped her head, her mane billowing in the unseen currents that moved it. “Stay, sister…your place right now is with your student. I shall attend to the other tasks for the moment.” With that, the door gleamed blue, swung open, and closed again as Luna stepped back into the hall, leaving her elder sister to play her role, just as she would now play her own.

****

She was surrounded by White.

Rainbow Dash frowned at the thought. She didn’t have any particular problem with white as a color; as a pegasus, one got used to white walls, white floors, white everything early on, at least if you were native to one of the cloud cities. Cloudsdale, Las Pegasus, Bespinto – All white, all the time, barring the occasional fountain of liquid rainbow. Occasionally, somepony would have the idea that they wanted to seem dark and brooding, and build their home out of black storm clouds. Those projects tended to last a week, tops, before the pegasus in question realized that random lightning strikes and frequent rain showers were less than ideal living conditions. So Rainbow Dash was fine being surrounded by white.

The problem was, at the moment she was surrounded by White. It was almost as if the very concept of Whiteness had sprung into being and surrounded her, which concerned her deeply for two reasons. The second reason was that, somehow, she understood what she had just thought. Somehow, it made perfect sense to her that ‘white’ and ‘White’ weren’t the same thing, a distinction that she realized she had no business understanding.

Her primary concern at the moment was that White was, apparently, quite firm while simultaneously yielding. Had she been trying to sleep, that would have been a fine quality, if it yielded just a bit before the firmness asserted itself. It was significantly less comforting when the substance you were surrounded by was firm only until it wasn’t. Or, possibly, it was firm until it didn’t need to be. Rainbow pressed a hoof against her face in frustration, wishing that Twilight had been on hand to explain whatever was happening. All she knew was that, at the moment, she felt like she was standing upside down, in a spot she had flown through a half dozen times without issue, and now felt firm as bedrock. Dash was, admittedly, used to being upside down. The mere sense of being upside down hadn’t bothered her in years, not while she was in flight, the sky below and the ground above. But then, she had at least known ground from sky, known which direction gravity would favor, known where to find a safe landing spot if something went wrong. Trying to stand on a completely capricious non-surface, which, she feared, might dissipate at any time and send her plummeting in some arbitrary direction, was far more nerve-wracking.

A realization which, in turn, led to a third reason for her to be concerned, related to her second – Since when had she used words like ‘capricious’ and ‘arbitrary’ in her thoughts?

“Yeah, it is kind of trippy in here, isn’t it?” a voice asked, and Rainbow Dash yelped in surprise, jumping straight up…into a suddenly firm ceiling, which became an equally firm floor as gravity choose a new orientation. The blue mare winced, then opened her eyes to see a forest green earth pony looking down at her, smiling wryly. “Sorry, kid, couldn’t resist myself. You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I had somepony who couldn’t manipulate this stuff as well as I could,” the strange mare offered in a rough, gravelly voice, with a wistful shake of her head. Dash rolled over, and looked at the newcomer warily. She had a mane the color of freshly tilled earth, long but bound tightly in a leather cord, looking for all the world like a whip, as was her tail. The muscles in her neck and legs seemed to give the same impression, as though she were a whip pulled back to strike…or a snake poised to lunge. Her eyes didn’t help with that comparison, a pale yellow, though shaped like a normal pony’s eyes. “Anyway, sure you have a lot of questions, but for now, let’s answer the two big ones. One, my name is Molehill. Two, I’m here to guide your path. Now come on, time’s wasting.”

The mare turned before Rainbow Dash recovered from shock enough to protest, and began trotting off into the White void. Frowning, the confused pony began to fly after the green mare, wondering where they were going, and what kind of talent was represented by a pickaxe crossed over the other, sharper kind of axe.

****

She was surrounded by White.

Applejack frowned, sweat beading on her forehead as she continued to buck against the invisible wall her rear hooves kept striking. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but she didn’t like it, whatever it was. She’d awoken to find herself seemingly floating in a featureless void, supported by an unseen force. Lacking any better idea, she had begun walking, hoping to eventually find one of her friends, or some kind of landmark, anything that would make more sense than just an endless expanse of nothingness. She had made it six feet before she had encountered the first invisible wall. Undeterred, she had turned around and began to walk in the other direction…making it another six feet before she encountered a second unseen barrier. That worried her, given that the wall ran through the place she’d been standing before she’d started walking. She had tried going left, then right, only to encounter a barrier each time, always six feet away. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten trapped, or by who, but the particulars of the situation didn’t much matter to her at the moment. She was trapped, and that was what was important. And, lacking any better ideas, she had fallen back on her default response to solid objects which weren’t cooperating. If a tree wouldn’t surrender its apples willingly, buck it. If she was stuck in some kind of tiny room with invisible walls, well, bucking was a fine response to that, too.

After a hundred strong strikes hadn’t produced any apparent change in the invisible wall, the farmer was beginning to question the wisdom of her decision. She didn’t know much about magic, but she knew enough to realize, after some time thinking while she kicked, that invisible walls were probably going to be able to stand up to any kick her powerful hind legs could deliever. Then again, the attempt didn’t seem to be hurting her, and she wasn’t feeling particularly tired, either. Another hundred kicks, then she could try something else. After all, her mother and father hadn’t raised her to be a quitter or a fool.

She staggered mid-kick, lost her balance, and fell to the transparent floor. ‘Mother’ and ‘father,’ she’d just thought. Not ‘ma’ and ‘pa,’ the usual way she thought of her lost parents. Shakily, she stood back up, suddenly very worried. She thought she’d only tried a hundred kicks, but she remembered talk, whispered warning of unicorn magic which could play tricks with a pony’s mind. She remembered what had happened after Discord’s escape, when she’d been corrupted, how it had felt to know that something was wrong with her, but not knowing exactly what. Suddenly, the unseen walls felt far to real, far too confining, as Applejack began to imagine that she was trapped inside her own mind, trapped in a tight little box, away from her family, away from her friends, something else in control of her body. Her breathing grew quicker, more shallow, as she pressed her body up against the wall, feeling for any weakness, anyway to escape. She began to walk forward, body pressed against the wall. One foot. Two feet. Three, four, five feet. She was properly hyperventilating now, as she took the last few steps that would bring her to the wall she knew was waiting straight ahead…

And the wall to her side gave way, and fell to the floor, legs splayed out beneath her, her vision occupied by a pair of pitch black hooves. Her eyes turned up, to find those hooves attached to the longest legs Applejack had ever seen on anypony other than the Princesses. The other mare reminded the farmer of that odd unicorn that’d met at Twilight’s party in Canterlot, the one who’d insisted on draping herself over the host for no readily apparent reason, if she’d been two inches taller, around ten pounds lighter, and an earth pony instead of a unicorn. Her eyes gleamed to rubies below a mane which resembled nothing so much as fine strands of tarnished silver, cascading gently down the left side of her face, only partially obscuring her left eye, to her knees, before being drawn back up and laid against her back until it wove into a voluminous tail carefully styled to resemble a heart. It was an utterly impractical style, but Applejack did have to admit it was striking. The dark mare stood at a slight angle, just enough that, by craning her neck, Applejack could see that her cutie mark was an antique silver key, an open heart design at the end opposite the teeth.

“I apologize for that, my dear. It seemed wise to arrange a distraction for you at the time; I hadn’t thought the test would cause you such a panic,” she observed dryly, and Applejack openly gaped at the sound, like velvet and silk brushing past her ears, her accent so refined as to make Rarity sound as rough as…well, as rough as Rarity made her sound, by comparison. “Everypony else tended to keep probing the walls, and quite quickly deduced that the walls weren’t actually six feet apart, they simply sprung into being after moving six feet in any one direction. I’d never seen a participant try to brute force her way out…congratulations on your originality, I suppose?” A shadow passed over the black pony’s features. “Oh, forgive me; I have you at a disadvantage, don’t I.” She lowered her head and bent one knee in an unusually formal gesture, given the impossibility of their surroundings. “I am the Duchess Lovecraft, but you may simply call me Lovecraft.” The mare straightened, and shot Applejack a warning glare. “If you try to call me “Lovie,” I will destroy you. Any questions?” The orange mare shook her head, seeing a seriousness in the stranger’s eyes that was missing whenever Rarity would give that same threat. “Grand, then, simply grand. Come with me, then, Applejack, the others are all waiting. Nearly time, you know.” And she walked past the prone farmer with a high stepping trot, her voluminous tail hovering just above the floor, leaving Applejack to scramble to her hooves and followed after the other pony, Lovecraft, wondering how the strange mare had known her name…

****

She was surrounded by White.

Normally, Pinkie Pie would have been distressed by this, though out of boredom, not fear. After all, by her reasoning anypony who had a room so perfectly White would probably be the type of pony who wouldn’t much care for parties or pranks or pies or pretty much anything that might get the whitie-white-white room less white. But then, Pinkie Pie understood this place. Oh, not like Rainbow Dash understood flying, or Fluttershy understood animals, or Rarity understood dresses, or Applejack understood apples, Twilight understood almost everything, at least that’s how it seemed sometimes. No, Pinkie didn’t understand the White place like that; she honestly didn’t think anypony did, didn’t think anypony could. But she understood the basics of the place.

After all, she’d been there before.

Once, years and years ago, when she’d been a little filly, back on the rock farm, before she got her cutie mark, she had gotten sick. Really terrifically sick. So sick that her father, not usually much for doctors, or unicorns, or especially doctor unicorns, had gone to fetch the finest unicorn doctor nearby, while Pinkie’s mom and sisters and Granny Pie stayed to watch over her. The night her father left, the fever had gotten worse, much, much worse, and when she closed her eyes, she opened them to find herself in the White place, feeling much better, much happier, much more alive than she’d ever felt. And she ran, and gamboled, and played to her little heart’s content, and then had fallen asleep again, perfectly content.

When she woke up the next morning, both her parents, and her Granny, were holding her in a tight hug, all three adults crying happily, while an old grey unicorn mare looked on from across her bedroom, smiling sweetly. They never told her what had happened that night, but then, they hadn’t had to, not really; she might not be the cleverest pony, but she wasn’t stupid either. But it didn’t matter, because they were all together, and they were all safe, and then her sisters had come in and six of them had just hugged. It was the single happiest moment of her life, even better than when she threw her first party, and it didn’t matter if she never told them what happened, because the only two ponies who needed to know about the White place knew. Pinkie herself knew.

And her very first friend knew, too. The strange unicorn mare she’d met in the White place, who’d seemed to surprised and so sad to see the little pink filly the first time they’d met. But she’d indulged the little foal, teaching her all about how the place worked, showing her how to run upside down, how to go from one place to another without crossing the space in-between, even showing her how to fly through the Whiteness like a pegasus, without any wings. And later, just before Pinkie had woken up, the unicorn had laid down beside her, and let the pink filly cuddle up against her rich, aquamarine coat, her pure white, pixie cut mane almost blending into the background, as she sang Pinkie to sleep with a lullaby with lyrics she didn’t recognize, lyrics which sounded old, and sad, and just as Pinkie had closed her eyes for the final time before she woke up, she realized the mare had never given her name, and Pinkie hadn’t thought to look at her playmate’s cutie mark.

The first time had been a mistake. The second was an accident, when Pinkie slipped on some water and fell into a bucket far too small for her head to fit into, let alone the rest of her. She had found herself back in the White place, and this time her friend hadn’t been simply surprised; she’d been struck speechless and forced to sit down, giving the little filly a chance to walk over and correct one of her earlier mistakes. As it happened, her friend’s cutie mark was a shimmering golden bridge arched across a flowing river. Young as she was, Pinkie knew it was rude to ask what a pony’s talent was if it wasn’t obvious, so she simply nodded to herself she’d seen her father do sometimes, and asked the stunned mare for her name. That had snapped the unicorn out of her daze, and she suddenly smiled happily down at the filly, and picked her up in an innocent, joyous hug.

The unicorn had introduced herself as Bridge Watcher, and overtime had taught Pinkie more about the White place, how to enter it safely, and how to leave it safely, too. Eventually, after Pinkie had earned her cutie mark, the unicorn had taught her how to use the rules of the place to travel between places in the normal world, but only after Pinkie had given her most solemn promise, her very first Pinkie Promise, to never use the power for evil. And as she’d grown, and made other friends, Pinkie found herself needing the strange unicorn less and less, found herself visiting less and less, though she still made a point to check in at least once every two weeks, and always tried to at least say hello when she was passing through.

And now, the pink earth pony and the aqua unicorn stood face to face again, and they both knew. Pinkie frowned, her hair straighter than normal, but still curly. Bridge Watcher had the same sad look as she’d had the first time Pinkie had arrived as a foal, so young, so full of life and promise.

“I’m not going back this time, am I, Bridgy?” the party pony asked, already certain of the answer.

The unicorn shook her head, looking back towards her friend. “I’m afraid not, Pinks,” she said, her voice full of regret. But then her eyes twinkled, and she gave an honest smile. “But come on, the others are waiting, and you’re not going to want to miss this party.” And the unicorn dashed off, her short cropped tail flicking with each step, her sixth oldest remaining friend close behind.

****

She was surrounded by White.

Truth be told, Fluttershy was quite enjoying the strange place. She knew that was strange, in a way, and that her friends would have expected her to be frightened by the endless emptiness around her. ‘But,’ she thought happily, ‘what do I have to be frightened of here, wherever here is? It’s nice, and quiet, and peaceful, and so soft…I could just stay here forever.’ And she was considering it, as she sat in the wonderfully peaceful place, looking all around her. The only thing that was missing to make it completely perfect were her animal friends. At that thought, Fluttershy paused, and focused on the patch of White just a little bit in front of her, concentrated, and concentrated, and concentrated, and with a sound just exactly like one would imagine a poof should sound, a pure White bunny poofed into existence, walked over to her, and cuddled up next to the yellow pegasus. Another poof, and a bird which would have been called a blue jay, if it weren’t White, flitted over and landed on her back, tweeting happily.

Soon, the void was alive with sounds, as more and more animal shapes were called forth, gathered close around the mare who had called them into being. Fluttershy was so contented, so at peace, that she didn’t even notice the eventual approach of another pegasus, despite how boldly her coat, a plum so dark it was nearly black, stood out against the environment. The animals, however, did, and alerted their creator, gently snapping the yellow mare from her reverie as the newcomer landed before the assembled creatures, tilting her head as the stranger’s jaw hung open in shock. “Oh, hello there, miss,” Fluttershy sweetly greeted the newcomer, still unafraid…though part of her courage now might have had something to do with the two grizzly bears she had willed into existence and which were staring at the unknown pegasus. Fluttershy smiled brightly, feeling particularly social at the moment. “I’m sorry if my friends and I disturbed you, but I didn’t know anypony else was around…we weren’t too much of a bother, were we?” The plum pegasus continued to gape as Fluttershy continued to smile beatifically, nuzzling the rabbit resting by her head.

“I…you…animals…” the stranger chocked out as her mind ran in circles, trying to process what she was seeing. Then she shook her head, her windswept lapis mane unaffected by the movement. “I’m really sorry about this, but, well…none of us were expecting you tonight, and technically your counterpart is…a bit busy, and mine is…also busy, so since I was the only one who wasn’t busy, they sent me to get you, only the others didn’t exactly mention that until, well right now, so now we’re running late, and I really need you to come with me right now,” the other pegasus rattled off in a quick panic, and Fluttershy’s smile widened, reminded of another mare with a similar tendency to speak quickly and forget to breath, though her voice had a slight hint of a Trottingham accent. “Oh, and sorry, nearly forgot, two more things. One, I’m Dream Keeper, nice to meet you. Two, you have to leave the animals here. Mainly because again, running a bit late and we really don’t have time to explain that to the others right now, but we’re going to at some point, definitely.”

Fluttershy stood, stretching her legs, and nodded. “Oh, well, alright then. I don’t want anypony to worry on my account, and my new friends will be fine.” Fluttershy walked over to Dream Keeper, and noticed a white feather against a spider web of stars emblazoned on her flank. “Could you lead the way? Um, if it’s not too much trouble, that is?”

Dream Keeper blinked, caught off-guard by the pale yellow pony’s willingness to follow, then began to canter into the distance, trailed closely by a gently smiling pegasus, as the animals left behind faded back into the White.

****

She was surrounded by white.

Rarity frowned, and blinked again, feeling terribly strange, but not entirely sure why she felt so strange. She shifted slightly, and flinched at the feeling of the sheets shifting against her; they were of a passable thread count, certainly, but nowhere near the quality she was used to in her own bed. She threw the top sheet off, uncovering her head, and suddenly understood. Everything white, and sterile, and ever so dull. And she’d been so enjoying her dream, of a palatial boutique, stocked with all the fabrics she could ever dream of, whole bolts of cloth so rare that even a single yard would cost more than an entire block in Canterlot’s shopping district, so rare that most designers thought them myths. And then, without apparent reason, she’d snapped awake in this drab little hospital room.

She was pondering the merits of trying to go back to sleep, when the door to her room swung open. She glanced over, and smiled at her visitor, admiring the night sky contained within her mane. While she’d never say it publically, for fear of offending royalty, she did rather prefer Luna’s mane to Celestia’s. Not that there was anything wrong with the multi-hued mane of the Sun Princess, but something about having the night sky itself reflected in one’s coiffure was so much more fashionable than…

And Rarity’s common sense caught up with her fashion sense, and she realized that Princess Luna had just walked into her room and was staring at her with a strange look at very bad things might be about to happen if she wasn’t properly polite this very instant, regardless of Luna’s professed desire not to be treated so formally. “Oh, Princess Luna, forgive me, I was still a bit dazed, I just woke up, I meant no disrespect,” the white mare stammered, springing from her bed and landing on her feet in a gesture even she’d questioned the need to practice. And she prepared to bend her neck in a shallow bow.

And she realized, in that instant, that she was able to look the Princess of the Night in the eyes.

And, she further realized that she hadn’t used her magic or her hooves to remove the bedsheet.

And she saw the knowing smirk on the princess’ face, accompanied by a dark blue light from the alicorn’s horn, before the fashionista looked back at her back.

And she screamed.

****

She was enveloped in white.

Twilight was confused, if still content. She’d been having such a wonderful dream, in a library filled with shelf after shelf of rare books, books on magic, on science, on friendship, on everything she could imagine. Some of the books she’d noticed had been thought lost for ages. She hadn’t bothered to read them, of course; it was only a dream, and she couldn’t learn anything from a dream. But the idea had been nice, that the knowledge hadn’t really been lost, and Twilight had wandered through the stacks, just taking in the sight of all those books in one place. The only worrisome part of the dream was that, on more then one occasion, she’d seen herself, only darker, just out of the corner of her eye, or hidden in a shadow and gone when she looked back. But overall, it had been a pleasant dream.

And now she was awake, and she felt a warm cheek nuzzling her, could smell a scent she remembered from her foalhood, when the little filly had been frightened, and her teacher had let her spend the night in the royal bedroom, snuggled up against the Solar Goddess, every breath heavy with the smell of lilies, and ink, and parchment, and something Twilight had eventually come to think of as the smell of magic, and she purred happily into the white neck in front of her. And her eyes sprang open as she realized Princess Celestia was essentially cuddling her, in a strange bed, and she had no idea what was going on, and she wanted to move, but she couldn’t feel anything below her neck, and she wanted to teleport but she felt cut off from her magic. Her purr turned into a whimper, and the comforting presence pulled away.

Twilight looked up at her mentor, her face a twisted expression of fear, embarrassment, and regret. Celestia looked down at her student, smiling. Not the sly, gentle smile she normally wore, that could mean anything from amusement to annoyance to boredom; a true, genuine smile, a smile that seemed to Twilight to radiate brighter than the sun itself. “Umm…hello, Princess,” Twilight began, commanding her voice to remain calm and level, a command her voice outright refused to obey.

“Hello, my most faithful student,” Celestia replied happily, her own command to control her laughter far better obeyed. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better, Princess, I’ve been better,” the lavender mare answered slowly, panic slowly rising. “Princess…I can’t seem to move, and my magic isn’t responding. Does that mean the ritual of untold power I was attempting without your permission…went wrong?” She heaved a sigh of relief when her mentor shook her head. That relief was short lived.

“I temporarily restricted your movement and magic, Twilight,” Celestia explained, the urge to laugh diminishing. “You did a tremendous thing tonight, Twilight, something that’s only happened once before. But in so doing…things have changed, Twilight. You have changed, my dear, sweet little Twilight, and I was afraid you might accidentally hurt yourself, or panic and hurt yourself, so I restricted your magic and restrained your body until you woke up and I had a chance to talk to you.” Celestia paused, and her expression became stern. “Twilight Sparkle, we have much to discuss tonight. But to begin with, if I release the restraints on you, do you solemnly promise me to react calmly and rationally, and not have one of your…episodes?” she asked, though even her resolve faded at the end, and she cracked a smile. Her student nodded nervously, and Celestia’s horn glowed bright yellow for a moment, enveloping Twilight’s body in her magic.

Twilight’s horn began to glow immediately, flaring to a nearly blinding red-violet as she confirmed her ability to use magic was restored, then went through a quick rundown of her body, moving each leg one at a time, turning her neck and head, wiggling her hindquarters, just to make sure she could, not for any other reason, flexing her –

Her eyes bugged out, and she stared at Celestia as a potentially horrible realization dawned on her, and Celestia stared back at her student, once more smiling. “Princess…’ the power of the Elements of Harmony within the chosen vessels’ didn’t meant what I thought it meant, did it?” she asked slowly. The Princess shook her head, still smiling, and opened her mouth to speak…

Only to be cut off by a sudden scream.

Chapter 6

“I don’t like this,” Shining Armor proclaimed grimly, his steely gaze focused on the examination room’s door.

“Yes, dear, you’ve mentioned that,” his wife replied, an understated smirk on her face. “Once every ten minutes, actually.” Cadence’s smirk grew as her husband turned to look at her, still grimacing. “Really, Shining, I’m not exaggerating. Every ten minutes, on the dot, you remind us that you don’t like this,” she noted. The stallion glanced at his parents, who nodded in agreement. “Now, much as I love it when you’re poised and ready to defend Equestria from danger, is glaring at the door going to help anything?”

“No,” he grudgingly admitted, lowering his gaze.

“And don’t you think my aunt would have told us if something was seriously wrong with Twilight when she came to fetch us?” Her husband looked at her in defeat, and nodded. “Then just relax, my love. If something changes, I’m sure we’ll be the first to know.” She glanced over to the corner of the room, where a young purple dragon was busily pouting. “Same for you, Spike. Just calm down, everything will be fine.

The dragon glowered at the winged-unicorn, arms crossed over his chest. “No offense, princess, but I’m not upset about that. I’m used to Twilight going off and leaving me behind. But if you’d had a fanged pegasus biting into your neck for the duration of an hour long flight from Ponyville to Canterlot, you might be a little cranky, too,” he deadpanned, before he returned to staring intently at the wall.

Cadence considered that for a moment, eventually nodding. She had to admit that didn’t sound especially pleasant, and there was no harm in letting the young dragon brood over it a bit. ‘It may even be helpful,’ she reasoned, ‘if it keeps him from worrying about Twilight. If only I had something so trivial to distract me…’ She frowned, almost imperceptibly, as she wondered what was actually happening. Despite her assurances, she wasn’t so sure Celestia would be entirely honest with them, if something had happened to Twilight or her friends. Though the citizenry might not, for some unfathomable reason, show much appreciation for the six mares who wielded the Elements of Harmony, there was little doubt that the sudden loss of that power could incite panic. So if something had happened to Cadence’s sister-in-law, or the unicorn’s friends, it was entirely possible that Celestia would try to contain that knowledge, at least until she was prepared for the fallout. Even if that meant lying to Twilight’s family.

“Cadence…are you okay?” Shining Armor asked as he gently nuzzled his wife, snapping her back to the present. “You went someplace else for a minute, there.” The princess smiled gently, nuzzling her prince back, about to reassure him that everything was just fine, to maintain the illusion just a little longer.

And then, they heard a scream.

Husband and wife pulled back and locked eyes for an instant, sharing a nod before Shining Armor turned to the rest of his family. “Stay here,” he barked, falling into his role as Captain of the Day Guard as his horn flared to life. With a blaze of light blue magic, Cadence threw the door open for him, and he leapt out, raising his shield around the door at the far end of the hall as his wife emerged behind him, her own magic ready. The scream had come from one of the other rooms branching off the hall, but neither pony had any idea which specific room it had come from.

Until, that is, there was another scream, and the second door on both sides of the hall flew open in a bright flash of pale cobalt, a white and purple blur dashing from the door on the right across the hall. A few seconds after, a very bemused looking Luna followed after, tutting thoughtfully, the door on the left closing as she passed. The pink princess and her gallant prince blinked in confusion, Cadence’s horn dimming as she released her magic, while Shining unthinkingly maintained the shield barring access from the main room. The silence dragged on while both ponies struggled to process what they’d just seen.

Finally, Cadence managed to find her voice. “Shining, honey…wasn’t that one of Twilight’s friends, the one who helped with the gowns for the wedding?” she asked slowly.

“Yes,” Shining confirmed, blinking as his brain still tried to play catch-up.

“And…did she have-” she began to ask.

“Yes,” her husband confirmed again, cutting her off. Cadence nodded for a second, still dazed by the implications.

“She…she didn’t last time, did she? I mean, I was still a bit out of it, I didn’t just…miss them, did I?

”

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

The couple continued to sit for what felt like the longest thirty seconds of their lives, before they turned to each other.

“I don’t like this,” they proclaimed in grim unison, before walking back into the room to face two nervous unicorns and a suddenly frightened dragon.

****

Celestia had thought herself prepared to handle any kind of scream she’d hear that night. She had mentally prepared words to comfort families grieving lost daughters, lost sisters. She knew just how she would respond if her student cried out in agonized self-loathing. She had anticipated wails of existential horror, as ponies dealt with everything they had known and believed being ripped away from them, the world itself turned on its head. And she was prepared for the eventual screamed demands of the royal court, once she had explained all she was prepared to explain. Some of those preparations had been easy; some had felt like a dagger through her heart as she contemplated them. The scream she heard now, though, was possibly the one type of scream she had not accounted for, in all her planning. For, as she looked upon Rarity’s face, as the white mare screamed a third time, the significance of that piercing sound became clear to her.

Rarity, fashion designer, heroine of Equestria, Element of Generosity, and former unicorn, was screaming, or, more appropriately, squealing, in a bout of pure, unbridled joy, gleefully trotting in place as Luna gave her sister a bemused smirk, and Twilight Sparkle watched her friend in stunned silence.

“I’m an alicorn! I’m an alicorn!” she squealed, face positively aglow as she reveled in her new body, her longer legs flexing powerfully, her new wings fully unfurled. With glittering eyes, she watched Twilight shakily rise from her own bed, saw the other mare had her own set of lavender wings. “Oh, and so are you, Twilight. Well, that’s even better! Did you know this was going to happen, and just kept it so it would be a surprise when we found out?” she asked jubilantly. Still unable to find her voice, Twilight shook her head sadly. Wordlessly, Celestia draped a wing over her student, an invitation for the lavender alicorn to lean against the Solar Princess for support, an invitation that was wearily accepted, the mare slumping against her mentor’s body, absentmindedly noticing how much taller she’d become, slightly taller than Luna and Rarity.

Her friend was too excited to notice. “Ah, well, all the better, for everypony to share in the same surprise, yes?” she continued, giving her friend an appraising look. “Oh, darling, have you seen your mane since you awoke? I must say, it’s rather fetching…same style and colors, it seems, but it looks to be made…well, it looks like it’s somehow made of magic, rather than hair, dear. Tail, too. Very impressive, very flashy, very, well, glowy.” She paused, and quickly stepped over to the small mirror in the room, examining her own mane, gently touching a hoof to it, squealing again, though not quite as loudly, as she felt the amethyst locks of hair replaced by what she could only describe as strands of actual amethyst, still pliant and soft when she touched it, but resembling a solid mass of jewel when she left them alone. “Oh, this just looks magnificent, and I’m certain it will have a truly glorious gleam in the right light. Truly a mane fit for a princess.” She stopped, her eyes suddenly, impossibly, going wider as she spun to stare at Celestia and Luna. “Are we? Princesses, I mean? I don’t know, I never bothered to see if that was a rule, do alicorns automatically became royalty?” she inquired, voice quivering with hope.

Luna shook her head, still wearing a puckish smirk. “Nay, fair Rarity. Your new form does not carry with it a royal title,” the Princess of the Moon replied, barely able to contain her laughter at the new alicorn’s antics.

The designer’s face darkened for an instant, then her smile returned and she went back to experimenting with her new mane and tail, testing what would cause them to move and shift, and what would leave them as a solid mass. She sighed in relief when she found she could still flip her mane alluringly, and resumed talking. “A shame, that, but I shall endure it,” she sighed, her feigned sorrow betrayed by the intensity of her smile. “So, forgive me for asking, but obviously Twilight and I are awake…are the others up and about, yet?”

Twilight winced at the question, felt Celestia’s wing press more firmly against her. “Rarity…” she began, softly, while a nagging voice whisper, ‘Oh, look at how happy she is…what kind of friend would ruin that for her?’

“I mean, not to speak ill of them, but the thought of Dash, or Pinkie, unattended like this…well, the havoc those two could inflict with their pranks suddenly amplified by magic!” Rarity went on, Twilight’s voice too quiet for her to hear.

“Rarity…” the lavender mare tried again, slightly louder, tears finally beginning to well up in her eyes. ‘Are you really that anxious for her to find out? Are you really that anxious to confirm it for yourself?’ she heard her own voice whispering darkly, and thought she heard more voices in the background, too quiet to hear clearly.

“And Fluttershy, well, you know I love Fluttershy like a sister, but the poor dear does tend to be a bit high strung, and I’d hate for her to wake up to face this on her own,” she continued. “I think I’ll go wait by her bedside, if she hasn’t woken ye-”

“They’re dead, Rarity!” Twilight shouted, her pain finally breaking through. Her friend spun around again, eyes focused solely on the purple mare, the joy shining in her eyes replaced with abject horror. “I killed them, so we could be alicorns!” she continued as tears began to stream down her cheeks. She looked up at her mentor, one last flicker of hope shining as she asked “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Celestia said nothing at first, looking down at her weeping student, the Sun Goddess’s heart breaking at the sight. She knew what she needed to say. She knew that, by waiting, she let them glimmer of hope kindle more, that by waiting she only made the truth worse. Yet, looking down at Twilight Sparkle, at the mare she’d known and taught since the former unicorn was a filly, Celestia hesitated, balking at the prospect of taking away that last bit of hope. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but…yes, you’re right.” She forced herself to speak the words, to strip away that last remnant of hope. She felt her student slip from her side as Twilight’s hind legs gave out from under her, the light from her crackling tail dimming. Tears welling in her own eyes, Celestia lowered herself to the floor, and wrapped her forelegs around her pupil, her neck and shoulder quickly dampening with tears.

“I…I don’t understand,” Rarity said quietly, her voice faltering as she, too, felt an overwhelming need to sit. “What do you mean, they’re dead? What do our friends dying have to do with us becoming alicorns?” she asked, her eyes glazing over as she stared blankly ahead. Luna, all thought of playful mirth gone from her mind, stepped over to the younger white alicorn and gently placed a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, unsure how else to comfort the distraught mare, or even if it were her place to try. She looked to her sister, hoping for guidance, but found Celestia too focused on her devastated student.

“Strength of earth, grace of wing, and magical horn; of these three aspects are alicorns born,” Twilight recited miserably, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against Celestia’s coat, terrible comprehension dawning on Rarity.

“Those beams of energy during the ritual…they joined you to Fluttershy and Pinkie, and joined Applejack and Dash to me,” Rarity breathed, beginning to understand.

Twilight nodded as best she could, and winced as Celestia pulled her closer, not from pain, but from shame, uncertain she deserved the comforting touch of her mentor. “I misunderstood the ritual, Rarity,” she explained sadly. “When it said it would concentrate the Elements within the vessels, I thought it was referring to the crystals as the Elements and then the six of us as the vessels, but now…I think when it was written, there wasn’t a distinction between the artifacts and the bearers.” She paused, sniffling as her tears threatened to once again render her incoherent. “I don’t know if it was supposed to…destroy the others, or if I made a mistake while I was hurrying, but…they’re gone. They’re gone, and it’s my fault…” She arched her head back, looking up at her mentor through tear-blurred eyes. “Can I…can I say goodbye to my family, before…” her voice broke, and she resumed sobbing.

“No, Twilight, you can’t say goodbye to your family. Not for a long, long time, yet,” Celestia answered, her own tears winding down her cheek, the liquid hissing as it fell and struck Twilight’s new mane. The purple mare sobbed louder, and Celestia explained, “You can't say goodbye, because you’re not going anywhere, Twilight. Not the moon, not the sun, not the stars or wherever else you think I might send you.” The princess looked down on her student gently as the purple mare continued to weep. “This night, four fine mares were taken from this world, and four families will begin to grieve,” she noted, her voice both calm and calming. “Forcing a fifth family to grieve along with them wouldn’t help anypony, my student.”

The lavender alicorn sniffled miserably at the princess’ pronouncement. “But...but I killed them, Princess…” she whimpered between sobs. “I can’t just…get away with that, because of my connections.”

Celestia nuzzled her student again, the soft fur of her muzzle wicking away some of her student’s unshed tears. “And if I thought you had intended for them to die, Twilight, you would never have awoken,” the Sun Goddess said, her voice still gentle, her words still meant to soothe despite the dark promise. “But I know you, Twilight, better than I know almost any other living pony, which means I can be sure of two very important things. Above all else, I know, with absolute certainty, that you would never knowingly harm another pony for you own benefit. The concept is so foreign to your nature that, if you had intended to, the ritual could not have succeeded, for the Element of Magic would have rejected you. And second,” she continued, her legs still wrapped comfortingly around the distressed alicorn, “I know that, for all your strengths and skills, my student, you aren’t a good enough actress to fake this kind of pain.”

“I hope everypony can be as understanding as you, Princess,” came Twilight’s pained reply, already picturing ponies calling for her to be punished, intermingled with images of ponies who would inevitably react poorly to the sudden appearance of two new goddesses, angry ponies with torches and pitchforks chasing after the two of them, demanding the blood of the false goddesses. Those images contrasted with visions of those who might react too positively to the sudden appearance of two new goddesses, fringe groups she had read about who opposed the current government. Visions of Canterlot in ruins, banners with her cutie-mark and Rarity’s emblazoned upon them flying amidst the ruins, Celestia laid at Twilight’s hooves, beaten and chained, flew through her mind, and she shivered, shaking her head to dispel them. ‘Oh, why’d you have to do that? I was ever so enjoying that idea,’ she crooned to herself, and again she heard a strange, different sound seeming to echo within her mind.

“Twilight Sparkle, I know that look. I said no overreacting, remember? That includes picturing the violent overthrow of the government by a lunatic fringe,” Celestia playfully admonished her student, trying in vain to coax out a smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much about what other ponies think of tonight’s events, though. You see, there’s a way to help ensure ponies react the way you wish them to, something my sister and I have become fairly skilled at over our lives. A skill you and Rarity will, no doubt, also become proficient in.” The Solar Princess paused, exchanging an impish look with her sister. “We’re going to construct an artificial yet completely plausible scenario which confirms the sequence of events we wish to advance, backed by a sufficient amount of carefully selected evidence such that those who hear it will consider the presented narrative briefly, find that it conforms to their expected standards of behavior for those involved, and then move on, while also ensuring that supporting evidence exists, beyond barriers of sufficient difficult to prove challenging enough to add legitimacy to said evidence, yet not so daunting as to be insurmountable, the account further aided by rumors spread by agents not associated with the Royal House through any traceable means which have cultivated a reputation as purveyors of falsehoods and ‘crackpot’ theories, and continue this strategy until such time as those who could contradict our version of events are no longer available for comment by any means currently available to ponykind,” Celestia explained, all in a single breath. Her student stopped her crying, as her formidable mind devoted itself to parsing just what her teacher thought she had just explained.

The Lunar Princess watched while the first pony to befriend her following her return applied her not inconsiderable intellect to her sister’s convoluted explanation, grinning to herself. Much as she enjoyed her sister’s obfuscating words, they unfortunately lacked the time it would likely take Twilight to decode it. “What my sister is trying to say, Twilight Sparkle, is that we are going to lie, and continue lying until everypony who can contradict the lie is long dead,” Luna translated.

“What?!” Two voices called out in unison, and the Princesses chuckled to themselves.

****

The main room of the infirmary wing, transformed by need into an impromptu waiting room, was crowded. It was, in fact, beyond crowded. It had been designed and furnished to hold twenty-four ponies comfortably, while they waited their turn to have whatever minor ailment had brought them tended to. It could, in a pinch, hold thirty-six ponies, and those ponies would still not be terribly uncomfortable, especially if some of those ponies didn’t mind standing, or at least sitting on bare floor. It was generally considered that fifty was the upper limit of the rooms capacity, and protocol demanded that, in the event that more than fifty ponies all sustained minor injuries at once, a strict triage be enforced, with the least injured ponies either sent to one of the proper hospitals or, if their complaint was truly minor, told to ‘suck it up and walk it off.’ That particular protocol was also useful as a warning to new functionaries at the palace as to why it was always important to check the royal mood before asking a princess to settle a minor dispute. It wasn’t the only such example, but most of the other examples tended to be rather more…colorful, though not without occasional merit - nopony, for instance, ever argued about who should receive the last slice of cheesecake at a royal banquet, at the least not after their first attempt.

The sixty-three ponies currently occupying the room were, understandably, uncomfortable. The twenty ponies who had been escorted, with varying degrees of grace, by the Night Guard were miserable enough to begin with, knowing only that something had happened to a member of their family, or at least a mare so close as to be considered family. The Ponyville natives had been there to see the Princesses escort their niece, her husband, and her in-laws through the double doors, and no word had come since. Princess Luna had emerged, briefly, to retrieve Spike, and since then, no information had come from within. By the time the pegasi from Cloudsdale had arrived, along with a family of dour rock-farmers, those already present had begun to fear the worst. The arrival of forty-three members of the Day Guard had done little to dispel those fears, and much to increase the overall discomfort, the ventilation system proving inadequate to keep the room comfortable and the air fresh with that many ponies present.

But nopony tried to leave. Nopony even seemed inclined to try to move, the adults watching the doors through the ranks of golden armor, while two tired foals slept peacefully between their parents, and two anxious fillies lay in a corner, while the minutes turned to hours. Twice, the pony who seemed to be in charge of the guards, a unicorn mare of average size and pale blue coat, stepped through the double doors, and the ponies caught a glimpse of a flowing starscape, heard a muffled words. But still, nothing happened, and the silence returned.

The first scream was so sudden that, for a moment, nopony moved, even the guards unsure what to do, their orders having been simply to ensure that the infirmary wing was secure, and to prevent anypony from entering the smaller hallway. By the time the second scream rang out from the hallway, a magenta barrier had sprung to life around the door, blocking access as the blue unicorn tried to find out what was happening. The mare frowned at the glowing barrier but relented, fully aware that she lacked the ability the bypass the Captain’s shield. With a whispered command for those closest to the door to keep watch on it, and inform her when the barrier dissipated, the guardsponies resumed their silent vigil.

The others who sat, waiting for news, did not all return to silence. Crying could be heard as the lanky yellow stallion and stocky blue mare tried to rock their twin foals back to sleep, while the nervous pegasus couple who had been sitting next to them tried to help by singing a lullaby, their two grown children accompanying despite their fears. The huge red stallion gave his granny a worried look, only to see the normally stoic old mare had a haunted look on her face. The rock farmers continued to quietly watch the door, but one could see that their muscles were tense where before they had been relaxed, and the yellow-brown stallion had laid a hoof upon his wife’s, his two adult daughters shifting towards their parents. The remaining, older pegasus couple had wrapped their wings around each other, terrified that the day they’d long dreaded had finally come to pass. And two middle-aged unicorns, clad in comfortable, if garish, clothes, smiled happily as they held each other.

“Ah don’t understand,” Apple Bloom whispered, confused by her friend’s sudden good humor. “We hear somepony scream, and you and your parents start smilin’? You wanna explain what ah’m missin’, Sweetie Belle?”

The pale unicorn filly looked at her yellow friend, a huge grin fixed on her young face. “That wasn't just somepony screaming,” Sweetie Belle whispered back, happily. “That was Rarity screaming!”

“Okay…gonna be honest, that seems like it’d be even less of a reason to smile. Ah mean, if I heard Applejack screamin’, I know I wouldn’t be happy about it.” The earth pony shuddered at the thought. She didn’t like hospitals under the best circumstances, and the image of her big sister screaming in one brought up bad memories.

“You don’t understand, Rarity doesn’t just scream like normal ponies do; my mom and dad say she has a whole language of screams!” Sweetie replied, her voice squeaking in excitement despite her quiet tones. “Like, how she screams when I accidentally set something on fire is different from how she screams when I accidentally splash her with water trying to put out whatever I set on fire.” The filly paused a moment, certain that there was something troubling about what she’d just said, but unable to decide what it was. “Anyway,” she continued, “that scream we just heard was her ‘something really awesomely amazing happened’ scream, like when a magazine says something really nice about her dresses, or…” She paused, her pale coat reddening at the cheeks. “My parents say she screamed like that after I was born, the first time I smiled at her.” Sweetie couldn’t actually remember it, but her father had taken a picture of it, a copy of which sat on the nightstand besides her bed at home. “So, see, if Rarity’s screaming that scream…it means something good must have happened, and everything is going to be fine.”

Apple Bloom frowned, thinking it over for a second, then nodded brightly. “Well, ah suppose that makes sense. So ya figure everythin’s gonna be alright, and the Princesses had us all brought here just in case?” The exuberant unicorn nodded, her purple and pink mane bouncing along, mirroring her excitement. “Well, alright! Nothing to do now but wait for everypony to come on out and tell us what happened.” And the two fillies returned to watching the shielded door, smiles wide on their young faces.

****

After Twilight’s shouted revelation, Rarity’s mind had been sent reeling. Admittedly, it was all quite a lot to take in. Hours ago, she had been a mere unicorn, a designer with aspirations of fame and eventual nobility, as well as one facet of an ancient magical weapon alongside her five dearest friends. Now, she possessed the power of a physical goddess and, while she may not be a princess by title, there were few ponies able to truthfully claim a higher social standing than a divine being. Initially, she had wondered if alicorns were allowed to choose what they were the goddess of; she had begun to mentally style herself as the Goddess of Fashion, the font from which all trends would flow, worshiped in the truest sense by the greatest fashion designers in the world. She had allowed herself a private cackle at the thought, unbecoming as such behavior normally was.

Until Twilight had told her the price the pair had had to pay, and the fantasy crumbled around her. Her friends were dead. Fluttershy was dead. She hated herself for making the distinction now, but it had never been a particular secret that she was closer to the pale yellow pegasus than the others. They simply had more in common with each other than the others, and had spent significant amounts of time in each other’s company, their weekly spa treatments predating Twilight’s arrival in Ponyville by years, while Fluttershy secretly had a keen fashion sense, and Rarity had admired the pegasus’ natural grace and poise, where she herself had to constantly work to maintain it.

There had, of course, been rumors, hushed talk that the two were something more than ‘friends,’ rumors which the designer quashed whenever they began to circulate, often by remarking in the rumormonger’s presence just how easy it was for a talented unicorn to paralyze a pony with a sewing needle, and how terribly difficult it could be to prove. For her own part, Rarity didn’t particularly mind, as the stories were never terribly sordid, and such a relationship wouldn’t have been damaging to her own reputation. And, alone and behind closed doors, she would admit to herself that she didn’t strictly mind the possibility; while she generally preferred stallions, she liked to think of herself as open-minded, and the kind pegasus had a certain allure. Had Fluttershy ever made such an advance, the designer truly had no idea how she would have responded. As it had stood, though, she would abide no threat to the mare’s almost foal-like innocence. On more than one occasion, the pegasus had blushed fiercely simply seeing a couple exchange a chaste kiss. Had Rarity not known for a fact that her friend had seen some of her animal companions breeding, she might have believed Fluttershy completely ignorant of such matters.

Regardless, the shy mare had certainly not shown any interest in interponial relationships at that level, and Rarity had never asked the other mare’s thoughts on such things, more than content to love Fluttershy like a sister, one she could speak candidly around, and occasionally accept tea from without worrying about the liquid spontaneously and mysteriously igniting.

And now she was gone, and Rarity wasn’t sure what to feel. She was, granted, very clear that she should feel a sense of soul-crushing grief, and she felt she was feeling that quite successfully. But beyond that, she had no idea. Should she wax poetic, bemoaning the glorious angel taken from an imperfect, undeserving world? But that felt so melodramatic, words one would hear in a play, not real life. She considered weeping, only to find that she already was, and it didn’t seem to be much comfort to her. Part of her, a very dark, terrible part of her soul, the part that held all of the disappointment, fury and hatred she repressed, was recalling the discussion the six had shared in the Everfree, remembering how magic was made stronger by strong emotions. That part wanted to use that knowledge to test an alicorn’s supposed invulnerability; Twilight Sparkle enjoyed experiments, surely she wouldn’t mind being the subject of one? But when that dark thought arose, something seared through Rarity’s horn and skull like lightning until the urge passed, leaving her to see the lavender alicorn weeping like a foal, cradled in Celestia’s legs. Any physical pain Rarity inflicted would pale before Twilight’s own guilt, and hurting Twilight wouldn’t undo what had been done.

So Rarity sat, lost in her own thoughts, mindful of the discussion between Twilight and Celestia without truly hearing what was being said. Until Luna spoke. “What my sister is trying to say, Twilight Sparkle, is that we are going to lie, and continue lying until everypony who can contradict the lie is long dead.”

The pain in her horn was intense, akin to what she imagined it would feel like to have it dipped in pitch and set alight. The pain in the rest of her body was less intense, but still sharp enough that she instinctively leapt to her hooves, unintentionally staggering the Princess of the Night as she dislodged Luna’s hoof from her shoulder as she indignantly shouted, “What?” just as Twilight asked the same question.

Luna looked at her eyebrow, looking terribly pleased with herself as the princesses nodded at each other. “Welcome back, Rarity,” she said, apparently self-satisfied. “And what I said,” she began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “is that the four of us are going to lie.” She held that final word, almost as if she were savoring it, and Rarity flinched away from her. Celestia, still holding Twilight protectively, shook her head at her sister’s antics, though she noted the strength of the designer’s reaction.

“Both of you relax. It isn’t…quite as crude as Luna makes it sound,” the Solar Goddess clarified. “What we’re going is tell the truth, just…not all of it, all at once, through the same sources.” She paused, contemplating something. “And I suppose we’ll have to tell some lies, to make everything stick together.” She looked between the two new alicorns, both wearing matching expressions of shock. “Oh, really, stop overreacting. This will work.” She began to grin, then added, “Have a little faith in me.”

“But…but…Princess, we can’t just lie to everypony!” Twilight exclaimed, her guilt set aside as she dealt with the larger moral implications of misleading an entire nation, possibly the entire world depending on how far the false information spread. Off to the side, Rarity found herself nodding, in spite of the potential for some fascinating court intrigue she could involve herself with. Celestia simply looked down at her student, still grinning.

“Twilight…a quick quiz for you. Other than the Nightmare Moon incident and Luna’s banishment, which I assure you truly did occur one thousand years before she was freed…how many major historical events can you think of that occurred either ‘a thousand years ago’ or simply ‘more than a thousand years ago,’ just off the top of your head?” she asked, her smile still fixed on her face. “And, while you’re at it, try to think of things that ponies insist happened ‘a thousand years ago,’ yet somehow involved Luna, even though she would have been on the moon at that point.” As her student’s eyes grew wider, so did Celestia’s grin. “And, for bonus points, explain how Cadence, Blueblood, and any number of other ponies who are long gone at this point could be my nieces or nephews, if Luna and I have never had foals of our own, and we didn’t have another sibling who had procreated.”

Twilight stared into space as realization dawned on her, blood draining from her face as it slowly contorted in horror. “How…how much of our recorded history is an amalgamation of lies and deceit, princess?” the purple alicorn whispered, her pupils shrunk to pin-pricks.

Celestia squeezed her student. “Outright lies, Twilight? Very little of it,” she assured her student. “And anything within the last, oh, five centuries or so is accurate, at least so far as I know. Anything which is explicitly stated to have occurred a set time after Nightmare Moon is…fairly accurate. For the most part.” She nuzzled the very shocked Twilight Sparkle gently. “As for the rest of it all…the dates are left vague, but the only major event I remember altering is the Hearth’s Warming legend. The ponies were real, as were most of the details…except they didn’t found Equestria. Those six missed that by…well, let’s just say ‘a while,’ and leave it at that.”

“Princess…is there a book, or scroll, or tablet, or anything someplace where somepony recorded what actually happened, in proper sequence?” Twilight asked, shakily, her head resting on her teacher’s shoulder.

“Yes, Twilight. And you can read it as much as you’d like, I promise. But we have more pressing matters at the moment. We still have your friends to deal with, remember?”

She didn’t begin to cry again. She wanted to, but it was as if her tears denied themselves to her. “I…I’m sorry. I…that was terrible of me. My friends are gone, and I let myself be distracted by…well, by minutiae, comparatively.” She inwardly shouted at herself, demanding that she cry, demanding the pain return, demanding that she let herself be punished for what she’d done. She called out to herself in grief and guilt, the dark, sadistic corner of her mind; she taken such pleasure in tormenting herself before, why was she silent now? But the voice was silent; the only answer a sound reminiscent of wind-chimes, light and melodic. Off to her side, she could hear Rarity crying softly, grieving their shared loss, but Twilight found herself unable to join her.

“A point of correction, dear Twilight; the other four Bearers of Harmony are dead, not gone,” Luna interjected, casually. “Or, I suppose the less callous phrasing would be to say that they are merely dead, and not gone.” The dark alicorn sighed to herself, and shook her head, as if in answer to some unasked question.

“Princess, forgive me my candor, but if you’re about to tell us how our friends ‘live on inside of us,’ or anything along those lines, I’d really rather you skip it,” Rarity grumbled acerbically, tears still sliding down her face, having decided for herself that, between the night’s events and the lingering, throbbing pain in her horn, she was allowed to be slightly less deferent to royalty than normal etiquette required. “While I appreciate the sentiment in theory, I can say with certainty that I’m in no mood for such trite comfort, and I rather suspect Twilight will agree with me.”

The Princess of the Night nodded sagely, no trace of anger marring her face. “Forgive me, fair Rarity, but immortal beings quickly learn to take great solace in such ‘trite comfort,’ as you describe it. It helps ease the pain that comes with having more friends lost to memory than living ones,” Luna offered with a hint of melancholy, sharing a meaningful look with her sister, knowing full well how much more that fact weighed on the Sun Goddess. “However, I assure you that, in this particular case, I do not offer you simple platitudes.”

“I think, sister, that it may be easier to simply show them,” Celestia suggested gently, sorry to interfere with Luna’s fun, even given the circumstances. “This will become easier with time, I promise,” she continued, now addressing her student and Rarity, “but right now, I want you both to focus on your friends, on the memories of your times together. Good memories, bad memories, happy, or sad. Just focus on them.” She paused, feeling the alicorn in her legs begin to quiver again. “Once you’re focusing on them…touch your magic, and focus it inwards, to the memories.”

Rarity frowned, at her limit for cryptic instructions and roundabout clues, but deferred to the Solar Goddess, closing her eyes and focusing her thoughts on her four lost friends. She recalled the first time Rainbow Dash had crashed through an open window into her boutique, the brash pegasus unapologetic as hours of work were undone in seconds. She recalled the ill-conceived sleepover with Twilight and Applejack, the understanding she had come to with the farmer afterwards. She recalled Pinkie’s arrival in Ponyville, the ensuing week-long period of madness and parties as the pink mare made herself known throughout the town. And she recalled Fluttershy. Simply…Fluttershy, the tears once more beginning to well up in the white mare’s eyes. Taking a shaky breath, she drew upon her magic, shuddering at the strength, and directed it towards her memories. She heard Twilight gasp, and then…

****

She was surrounded by White.

She was also, apparently, a unicorn again, judging by her inability to feel any wings growing from her back. Her right eye twitched, and she slowly, gracefully sat down upon the…whatever-it-was she was sitting upon, mouth curling into a manic grin. “Alright, Rarity, stay calm,” she muttered to herself, her eye continuing to twitch. “Celestia told you just what to do, presumably, she knew that this was going to happen,” she continued, unconsciously tapping at the not-ground with her hoof. “I’ll just wait here, patiently, like a proper lady should,” she assured herself, forcing herself to resist the urge to begin wailing dramatically, despite the apparent appropriateness of that action, given her current situation. “But I swear by…I swear by myself, come to think of it,” she began slowly, considering the potential implications of being able to swear oaths to oneself, “that if somepony doesn’t explain what in Equestria is going on in the next five minutes, I’m…I’m…” She paused, considering just what she would do. Most of her ideas simply involved forcing ponies to wear unfashionable clothes; a form of torture, she supposed, but unlikely to be of much use against most ponies.

“Going to find a bevy of virgin mares, lure them to your home, slit their throats, drain their corpses into an ornate golden tub, and bathe in their blood to maintain your own beauty?” a voice with a slight Trottingham accent suggested from behind the designer.

“What?!” Rarity rose, shocked at the implications. “First off, what kind of monster do you take me for? Second, do you have any idea, whatsoever, how hard it would be to get that much blood out of my coat? Third, how would that possibly help me get any answers?” she demanded, spinning around to find herself nearly muzzle to muzzle with a dark plum pegasus, who was grinning wildly.

“Well, good to see you have your priorities in order,” the other mare chuckled liltingly. “Anyway, short explanation, I’m Dream Keeper, and I’m here to take you to those answers you were demanding. Sorry, no more details right now. Yeah, you’ve had a weird night, I realize that, but believe me when I tell you that it doesn’t have anything on what I’ve had to deal with.” The pegasus shook her head in disbelief as she trotted away. “It was bad enough when she was making them out of the White, but when she started changing the furniture, I just…I don’t even know,” she muttered in disbelief. Rarity, long past the point of questioning the madness her life had become, simply followed the odd mare, hopefully to answers. Or something heavy and blunt she could strike her head against until she stopped caring about answers.

She was beginning to suspect that the blunt object may, in fact, be less damaging to her mental health than the answers.

****

She was surrounded by White.

“Huh…an undifferentiated essence field,” Twilight observed, frowning slightly. She was dimly aware that her wings were gone, and that her body had returned to its normal proportions, but she had more pressing concerns. “Okay, assuming the prevalent theories are correct, this means one of two things. Option one, I’ve shed my mortal form, either temporarily or permanently, ascending to a state of pure energy, and the building blocks of creation are laid before me to play with as I will.” She paused, focusing her thoughts on the space directly in front of her. Disappointingly, a tray of brownies didn’t spring into being. “Alright, can’t rule that out entirely, but if my will can’t even conjure a simple dessert, the second option seems more likely,” she reasoned, and lay down against the solidified nothingness that was supporting her. “So…I guess alicorns can die, after all.”

“Not that we’ve been able to determine, my most faithful student,” a familiar voice said from behind the purple mare. “Though as far as your other conclusion, Twilight, you’re not entirely wrong. This…place, whatever you care to call it, is between Equestria and…whatever comes after,” Celestia continued, a slight sorrow tainting those final words. Twilight leapt to her hooves and spun around to face her mentor…and froze. The princess looked toward her sister, standing silently next to her, and the siblings shared a smile. “You were right, Luna; the look on her face right now is priceless.”

The off-white pegasus looked back into the purple unicorn’s eyes, her pink mane hanging casually to the side as she smiled that familiar, gentle smile, looking so alien on the less sharply defined face it now occupied. Next to her, the shorter, blue-violet unicorn chuckled to herself, her periwinkle mane styled similarly to the pegasus’, slightly shorter and more carefully arranged to keep it clear of her face. “I told you that’s how she’d react, when she saw you like that, Tia,” Luna pointed out. Her was voice higher, more youthful, yet still unmistakably the voice of the Princess of the Night.

Twilight stared at the two mares, her mouth moving on its own, opening and closing as she questions vied for her attention, as she struggled to answer those questions on her own with the available evidence as a not insignificant portion of her conscious mind insisted that no, enough was enough, it was simply time to get some sleep and sort everything out in the morning. The sisters both watched her, chuckling sympathetically. After a moment, Celestia walked over to her student, and turned to face the same direction, draping a wing over the significantly younger mare. “Twilight, I know this is all a bit much to take in, and I wish I could let you have all the time you need to process…well, everything,” she said, watching for her student’s reaction. The lavender mare continued to stare straight ahead, but her mouth had stopped moving, so the princess continued, “Unfortunately, while we may have all the time in the world, in a grand, literal sense, we’re also operating under some immediate limits, and we really need to get moving. So, I make you a promise; come with Luna and me right now, and try to keep yourself together a little while longer, and once the immediate issues are handled, we’ll answer any questions you have, that we have the answer to. Does that sound good?” Celestia suggested soothingly. The dazed student gave a shallow nod, and walked alongside her teacher, the white wing draped over her back. Luna fell into step besides the pair, and the trio walked off into the Whiteness, the confused mare flanked by the sisters.

****

There was no gentle transition, no subtle change from barren expanse to sparse fields, no visible barrier demarcating one location from another. The three mares had simply stopped being in the fields of White, and started being…someplace else.

That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.

Immediately to their left, also having appeared seemingly from nowhere, Rarity stood, frozen in place, a deep plum pegasus standing beside her and directing a knowing smile at the two princesses. The designer had, much like Twilight herself, returned to her original form, her mane once more hair, her back free of wings.

That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.

Stretching out to the left and right, as well as behind them, were row upon row of tree, each different from its neighbor. There were carefully fruit trees of every variety, evergreens soaring above their neighbors and tiny, carefully tended bonsai trees. Occasionally, those trees were not as distinct as they should have been. Admittedly, the lavender mare had never focused too heavily on botany, but she was reasonably certain organs shouldn’t be growing on a fir tree, nor should an oak tree have branches weighed down by coconuts, and she was reasonably sure tomatoes and pineapples had no business growing on any sort of tree. Nor, for that matter, did books, bits, bowling balls, candles, or spheres of self-contained fire.

That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.

In front of them, there was a gorge, easily five hundred feet wide. The depth was impossible to determine, since it was filled nearly to the point of overflowing with what Twilight recognized as liquid sunlight; the substance was so powerful that Equestrian law made the attempt to create it an act of treason, for fear of what it could do in the wrong hooves, and so rare that the same law mandated any naturally occurring samples were the exclusive property of the Crown, for fear that any attempt to sell it could destabilize the entire economy. The amount that had been found, at least publicly, filled the thimble Celestia insisted on keeping it in one-fourth full; the amount that lay in the moat represented enough raw power to fuel a spell which could birth a new universe.

That was not what Twilight Sparkle was focused on.

Twilight Sparkle and Rarity stood near the edge of the great chasm, gazing across at the structure on the other side of the moat. The castle was vaguely reminiscent of Canterlot Castle, at least in its general design; soaring towers, grand balconies, smaller towers jutting out above empty space. The walls glittered and shined, the walls made of platinum, the tower roofs a swirl of gold and silver, the windows diamond in place of glass. It wasn’t a replica of the familiar castle, but seemed more that the structure they knew was a pale imitation of the grand palace before them, an impression only strengthened by the sheer size of the place. Canterlot Castle was meant to be grand, to inspire awe in those who visited it, and fear in those who would visit ill-intent upon it. The structure across the moat did not dwarf Canterlot Castle with its scale. The structure across the moat dwarfed the mountain Canterlot had been built upon with its scale, the shimmering walls extending so high that they vanished amongst the clouds. It was the stuff of legends, the kind of thing ponies might sacrifice their very life simply to gaze upon.

It was not what the two unicorns, turned alicorns, apparently turned unicorns again, were focused on.

A drawbridge of solid diamond had been lowered across the moat. Walking towards the group were seven mares. Three of them, unknown to either Twilight or Rarity, looked slightly amused, though the black earth pony might have been better described as bemused. The orange earth pony looked upset. The cerulean pegasus’ expression was a mixture of confusion and excitement. The pink earth pony was bouncing happily, clearly ecstatic. The pale yellow pegasus wore a content smile, at least on the half of her face not hidden by her pink mane.

“Twilight Sparkle, Rarity…welcome to the Citadel of Harmony,” Celestia announced, as the two she’d named began to gallop across the bridge, to their waiting friends.

Chapter 7

The six friends stood near the center of the massive, diamond drawbridge, the two unicorns weeping as the embraced their friends. Rarity had nearly tackled Fluttershy, her forelegs now wrapped tightly around the mare’s chest, while the yellow pegasus gently patted her friend on the back, trying to calm the white unicorn; Rainbow Dash and Applejack were exchanging uncertain looks while Twilight held a foreleg around each of them, sobbing apologetically, all while Pinkie was somehow able to wrap her forelegs around the other five in a grand encircling hug. The princesses and the four other mares kept their distance, watching thoughtfully.

“I’m…I’m so happy to see you all,” Twilight managed to choke out between sobs, her legs pulling the unhappy earth pony and conflicted pegasus closer to her. “They told me that the ritual had killed you, and I was so scared, and so sorry,” she explained, as feelings of relief washed over her, her tears of sorrow slowly turning to tears of joy, while Rarity cried tears of her own, babbling incoherently as those tears soaked into Fluttershy’s coat. “I thought that I’d never see any of you again, and that it was my fault, that you were dead because of me.” She looked between the four friends she’d feared gone, smiling. “But you’re all here; you’re not dead!”

Pinkie smiled again, squeezing the assembled group even more tightly. “Oh, Twilight, you silly filly, you should know by now that we’ll always be your friends, but you really need to pay more attention to what other ponies tell you. Especially when those ponies are the princesses,” she admonished playfully. Twilight looked up at the party pony through her tears, not understanding her friend’s statement. “Of course we’re dead,” Pinkie clarified cheerfully, lips stretched in a wide, genuine smile.

Nopony spoke. Nopony moved. Nopony so much as blinked. Rarity, still holding Fluttershy tightly against her chest, was dimly aware that her friend didn’t seem to be breathing, that she couldn’t feel a beating heart beneath the yellow mare’s coat. Yet Fluttershy was still smiling peacefully, the same smile she so often wore while she tended to her animals, safe from the pressures of the world. Twilight focused on her hooves, pressed against Applejack’s and Dash’s necks; neither pony had a pulse, though they were both still warm. Pinkie continued to smile back at the horrified, lavender unicorn as if Twilight had just complimented one of Pinkie’s desserts. The seconds stretched on, nopony contradicting Pinkie, revealing her statement as some macabre joke.

“No…” Twilight finally said, her voice barely a whisper, “you…you’re all right here. You’re right here, and you’re fine.” The unicorn began to shiver. “If you weren’t fine, it would mean that I’d really killed you, that you were all really gone.” She looked at each of her friends in desperation. “If you weren’t fine…I’m going to have to live with your blood on my hooves, forever. Please…please, don’t make me go through that. Please…be fine,” she pleaded. She tried to look each of her fallen friends in the eyes, tried to find some glimmer of hope.

Fluttershy had already turned her head away before Twilight could even look to her, the pegasus’ face hidden behind her curtain of pink hair; she had no kind word to offer, and instead held tightly to Rarity, trying to comfort the designer.

Pinkie held Twilight’s gaze briefly, still smiling, but the smile had soured, and she, too, looked away, releasing her friends from her firm embrace. Her mane flattened, straightened as she stepped back, unsure how to cope with such profound misery as she saw in her friend’s eyes, knowing no amount of laughter would dispel the unicorn’s fears.

Rainbow Dash stared back when her turn came, unflinching, but she, too, had no words of comfort to give her friend; she couldn’t betray Twilight’s trust with false reassurances, instead gently wrapping a foreleg around the other mare, trying to support her friend. In the end, Twilight turned away from the pegasus, unable to meet her victim’s silent gaze any longer, imagining accusations where none existed.

Applejack was prepared when her turn came, her muzzle turned down in a grimace, accusation in her eyes, no sense of hesitation in her voice. “Yeah, Twilight…they didn’t tell us much, but they told us that. We’re dead, and it’s because of you,” she said, refusing to sugarcoat the truth as she saw it.

Twilight was aware that her other friends were shouting, was aware the Applejack was talking, was aware that somepony had called her name. She thought she heard the princesses in the mix, dimly heard a stranger as well, somepony who reminded her of Rarity, only more natural, not as affected. She didn’t pay any attention to the words; she had heard all she needed to hear. There would be denials, and equivocations, and rationalizations, but none of that mattered. She pulled away from the others, her hooves connecting shakily with the bridge. She took a step back, her head hung low, her eyes squeezed shut as she began to cry once more.

‘Well, guess that answers that, then. Two of them couldn’t even look at you, one couldn’t speak to you, and the last…the last speaks the truth, doesn’t she? That’s what she does.’ The voice was practically giddy now, its laughter echoing inside the unicorn’s mind. She offered no protest, no response; she had none to give. ‘Awww…have you finally given up, then? Are you finally ready to acknowledge what you knew, deep down, all along?’ she asked herself, and something cold brushed against Twilight’s muzzle, something so cold it burned. “Finally ready to admit you’re not worthy of having anypony, least of all her?” she teased, breath like ice biting at her ear as the words were whispered, followed by an actual bite, a quick nip, the kind of thing a mother might do to get her foal’s attention. Her eyes sprang open at the pain, just as she realized the last words hadn’t been whispered into her mind, but into her ear.

Standing before her, Twilight Sparkle saw…herself. Almost. The mare standing between Twilight and her arguing friends was darker than she should have been, her coat a deep royal purple, the indigo and purple of her mane and tail darkened to black, the pink stripes now crimson. Her mouth was curled into a sadistic grin, a single fang descending from her upper jaw on each side. The edges of the mare’s body seemed to fade and distort, as if something were constantly pulling at her, trying to tear her apart. But there could be no mistaking the strange unicorn for anypony else, no mistaking the six-pointed star of her cutie mark. The two mares stared at each other, one in horror, one in cruel joy.

“Took you longer to notice than I’d expected,” the dark specter noted, and Twilight, the ‘normal’ Twilight, took an instinctive step back. “Really? You’re really going to try running away from yourself?” The apparition rolled her eyes. “I think we both know that’s never the answer, even in ‘normal’ situations. Never mind that now, ‘yourself’ can chase you down, pin you, and make you listen,” she laughed, licking her lips. “Of course, I suppose there is something to be said for the thrill of the chase…”

‘This…this can’t be happening, this can’t be real, that…thing, can’t actually be me,’ Twilight thought to herself desperately, and her darker image laughed.

‘Oh, I’m still in your head, just so you’ll know,’ the dark voice echoed through her mind again. “I just happen to be outside it now, too. Nice little effect of…wherever we are,” she continued verbally. “Of course, you could be right. Maybe I’m not actually you, or even part of you. Maybe I’m some remnant of Nightmare Moon, of Discord, a parting gift bestowed unnoticed. Maybe Chrysalis did something to your precious little mind without you realizing. It’s a possibility, I suppose.” The darker Twilight shrugged, her shoulders completely dissipating into mist for an instant before they reformed. “Then again…I might just be you after all, some dark little part of yourself you’re so desperate to deny but that you can’t get rid of. There’s really no way for you to know, unless I tell you…but then, how could you trust me to be telling the truth either way?” The dark mare giggled, the normally cheerful noise twisted to hostility. “Honestly, though, if I were you, I’d be less worried about what I am than what you are. A sad, pathetic little recluse who got lucky and stumbled out of her library and into better friends than she deserved. And then what does she do? She stumbles into another library, and ends up killing four of them.” The grin grew broader, the gleam in the other mare’s eyes that of a predator happening upon injured prey, and Twilight took another automatic step back. “Was it worth it, Twilight? Any of it? All that time spent studying, spent practicing, and what do you have to show for it? A teacher who won’t acknowledge you as more than a student, four dead friends, and an eternity to remember how you murdered them, how you stole their very essence to turn yourself into a goddess.” The shadowy mare threw her head back and laughed. “You know, maybe that’s why Luna said being alicorns doesn't make you and Rarity princesses; maybe they’re going to make you a queen,” she reasoned, chuckling as she did. “Twilight Sparkle, Immortal Queen of Tartauros. Maybe they’ll let you out sometimes, as a warning to the foals. ‘Do your homework, or Twilight Sparkle will carry you away to serve her,’ or ‘Be nice to your sister, or Twilight Sparkle will sacrifice you for more power.’ Luna will be so happy she doesn’t need to be the all-encompassing boogeymare anymore. And when you think about it, ‘Twilight’s Night’ flows so much better than ‘Nightmare Night,’ don’t you agree?”

‘No,’ the lavender mare protested weakly, ‘Celestia said she wasn’t going to banish me, wasn’t going to punish me, even though…’

“Even though you deserve it,” the black-maned unicorn finished the thought. Behind her, the black earth pony glared at Applejack, gesturing slowly in Twilight’s direction. “No, you’re right, she probably won’t. Which is a shame, since you so richly deserve to be punished,” she agreed, chuckling again at the images that began dancing through Twilight’s mind. “Oh, well. You’ll just have to find some way to make your immortality tolerable, to distract yourself from an eternity remembering how your friends trusted you, and how they died for it. After all…nothing can kill an alicorn.” The lavender unicorn stared at her counterpart, her vision blurred by tears, as the smile faded from the dark mare’s face. “No matter how much she might deserve to burn for her crimes.”

The cruel presence’s careful suggestion provoked the desired response. Twilight glanced to the side, to the edge of the bridge, to the great chasm filled with one of the most powerful magic substances in existence. It was entirely possible that simply attempting to channel that much power at once would burn her to a cinder; if she could control the magic, she could conceivably wield more power than any other being in recorded history. Either way, she reasoned it might be enough to atone for what she’d done.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to keep her voice from shaking, as her horn flared to life. The eleven other mares turned to face her, and she turned to look sadly at her mentor. The white pegasus’ eyes widened as comprehension struck, and she leapt towards her student, propelling herself forward with her wings as Luna’s own horn began to glow. Neither princess was fast enough. Celestia’s hooves closed around empty space as the unicorn vanished with a flash of red-violet light, reappearing in the open air over the chasm, facing the ponies on the bridge. She was vaguely aware that the darker version of herself had vanished, and then she was falling, her horn still bathed in light. She collided with the liquid sunlight, the raw energy burning her coat away, burning the flesh beneath. Strangely, she didn’t even feel it as she drew the power surrounding her into her own body. She felt the power coursing through herself, felt it bending to her command…and, as she felt the power reach a peak, she turned it against her own body.

And she knew pain.

And then, she knew only darkness.

****

“Yeah, Twilight…they didn’t tell us much, but they told us that. We’re dead, and it’s because of you,” Applejack said, grimacing as she did. She opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted by several simultaneous shouts as Twilight pulled away, pulled back from the harsh words.

“Applejack, how could you?” Fluttershy berated, glaring at her, preparing to bring the full Stare down upon the farmer, when Rarity began to sob, drawing the pegasus’ attention to the friend who held her tightly.

Pinkie’s eyes burned as she glowered at the orange mare. “What happened to not blaming her, Applejack?” the pink pony asked icily, her coat seeming to darken, just for an instant.

“What happened to forgiving her, AJ?” Dash inquired, the hot anger in her voice a dark counterpoint to Pinkie’s cold question.

“Really, Celestia? Really?” the black earth pony called out from further along the bridge, storming angrily towards the center. “Is this what Honesty has been reduced to; a tactless foal who cannot temper truth with reason?” Lovecraft snorted in derision.

“Twilight,” Celestia called out calmly, ignoring the others, taking a step towards the crying mare, her heart trembling at the expression on her student’s face.

“Everypony, let me finish, will you!” Applejack shouted back, still annoyed by the unfamiliar sound of her own voice, her comfortable accent all but gone; even certain words seemed barred from her. “We’re dead, and she’s the reason, let’s not quibble about that,” she said evenly, silently wondering why she’d said ‘quibble’ when she’d meant to say ‘argue.’ “But that doesn’t mean I blame her, which I would have said if you all hadn’t interrupted.” She turned to look at the lavender unicorn, the horrified look on the other mare’s face a dagger rasping at her flesh. “Really, Twi, I’m not saying I blame you, but…you need to accept what happened.”

“Oh, does she, now?” Lovecraft retorted, finally reaching the assembled ponies. “So, after suffering a massively traumatic event, which, as you so kindly pointed out, she has reason to feel responsible for, you take the joy she sees at finding her friends still…present,” the earth pony bitingly asks the farmer, stumbling slightly for the proper word, “and decide that the best course of action is complete, unvarnished honesty, to take that little bit of joy, and stomp it into the ground?”

“In case you hadn’t gotten the memo, Honesty is a pretty important part of who I am,” the farmer deadpanned, matching Lovecraft’s gaze. The other mare laughed coldly, hauntingly.

“You think that’s all you have to do, that that’s all there is to it?” she asked, shaking her head, her mane shimmering as a wave cascaded down its full length. “You have a great deal to learn, child; the truth is not some blunt object to be swung about haphazardly.” She paused, and angrily raised a hoof towards Applejack. “After all, if you aren’t careful, somepony might get hurt.”

“I’m Sorry,” Twilight whispered, and all eyes focused on her as she turned from the edge of the bridge to face Celestia, still some distance away. The princess saw the heart-rending despair on her pupil’s face, had seen the unicorn looking out at the moat, and launched herself forward without hesitation, eyes wide in horror, as the mare’s horn ignited. She beat her wings, willing herself to be fast enough, to reach the distraught unicorn in time. She swung her forelegs closed, grabbing for her student, only to be partially blinded by the flash of teleportation. Her sight cleared quickly…just in time for her to see Twilight Sparkle fall beneath the level of the bridge; she heard the splash an instant later, smelt the terrible stench of burning fur, heard the crack of an explosion.

“Case in point,” Lovecraft remarked smugly.

“Enough, all of you,” Celestia said bitterly, turning to her sister. “Take the rest of them into the castle, to the great hall. If she can’t learn to stay her tongue,” she instructed, pointing a hoof at Applejack, “then gag her.” The Solar Princess sighed, flexed her wings, and vanished.

“It would seem, my dear Applejack, that dear Twilight Sparkle is not the only one capable of performing actions which inadvertently lead to others being harmed,” Luna observed, trotting quickly across the bridge, dutifully accompanied by the plum pegasus.

“But…but what about Twilight,” Dash asked softly, staring at the spot in the air Twilight had appeared at before she fell.

“My sister has gone to retrieve her, Rainbow Dash. Now, come, and let us all hope that Twilight was not harmed overmuch by her most recent ordeal,” she replied vaguely, leading the remaining ponies into the grand diamond fortress.

****

She was surrounded by White…again.

She had felt the pain, had felt the world fade away as her body turned to ash in the crucible of her own magic. And, for the barest of instants, she hadn’t felt anything, save the embrace of oblivion.

Then, her hopes had shattered, as her eyes opened and saw the infernal, unending expanse of White briefly, before her eyes snapped shut in denial, and she wept once more for her lost friends. As the tears flow, a memory forced its way into her consciousness, a memory of a dire warning. That teleportation magic, once shaped, needed to be completed; an attempt to discharge the spell otherwise without a target location would result in…

The purple mare’s horn lit up, and she vanished, her body dissolving as the undirected magic tore her apart, the largest remaining piece no larger than a speck of dust.

Only to reappear immediately, her body whole, completely unharmed.

‘To flashy,’ she thought, trying to reason through the anguish. ‘Maybe…maybe I’m trying to hard?’ She charged another teleport spell, wrapped it around her brain, and aimed five feet ahead of herself. Blackness.

And White again, with no evidence of what had just transpired. She didn’t know how, but she knew she hadn’t moved, knew she was exactly where she had just been, and knew there wasn’t an extra brain lying about. ‘Maybe that’s too quick…slower?’ she thought desperately. A third spell, and her heart appeared before her, floating in her red-violet aura. She looked at it thoughtfully for the brief interval it took her to die…and woke back up, heart back safely in her chest.

Again and again she tried to destroy herself, removing organs, transmuting her blood into acid, igniting her coat, again and again, growing increasingly creative, increasingly desperate. And each time, the same result. A brief glimpse of darkness, only to return to the White. She had broken down into incoherent tears, her efforts abandoned, by the time she felt another pony lay down next to her, a wing draped over her back.

“Feeling any better, Twilight?” Celestia asked sadly, barely holding back her own tears. The young unicorn looked at her through wet eyes, sniffling as she gave a shallow nod. The Princess of the Day nodded back. “I thought as much,” she mused, looking straight ahead, seeing something Twilight couldn’t. “I…had a similar response after…after Nightmare Moon.” She laughed bitterly. “I never thought to apply teleportation spell quite like that, so I’ll give you credit for creativity, but I was prepared to turn my body into a second sun in the throne room, before Watcher and Molehill talked me out of it. I wonder sometimes, in my weaker moments, if it might not have actually worked, but I don’t care to run the risk anymore.” Celestia sighed, flexing her wing to pull Twilight in closer as the unicorn listened in silence. “More likely than not, I would have just found myself here again.” The two mares, a princess and her pupil, sat there, in the empty void, the younger looking at her elder, the elder looking into the emptiness, her breathing slow and rhythmic. Minutes passed, the unicorn slowly regaining her composure, the mere presence of her princess and teacher enough to calm her, if not to dispel the fears that underpinned them.

“I’m sorry for…overreacting, Princess,” the younger mare offered hoarsely, lifting her head to look at her mentor’s face in profile. She was used to having to look up to see Celestia’s face; it was strangely unnerving to not need to crane her neck, or have Celestia bend her neck down, to look the princess in the eyes. Nearly as much as it unnerved her to see the Sun Goddess silently crying.

The pegasus turned to face her student, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. “No, my most faithful student, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” the Princess of the Day responded, making no effort to hide the weariness from her voice. “My sister and I…did not act as we should have this night, Twilight. Luna saw one of the few ponies she has grown fond of since her return, risen to be her equal. A friend to stand with her as a fellow immortal, proof against the ravages of time. That…is a powerful thing, for one like us. And I...” She paused, her smile growing, some of the sadness melting away. “Twilight, there are two ponies in this world I would gladly sacrifice anything to protect, save the sacrifice of one for the other. Luna is one of those ponies.” The goddess stared deeply into her student’s eyes. “I don’t think I need to tell you who the other is, do I?” The unicorn blushed fiercely, a small shake of her head the only reply she could manage. “I know you, Twilight. I knew you would be pained by the loss of your friends, knew that you would fault yourself for their fate. That you would wrongly fault yourself. But I let myself be distracted by visions of you, my most faithful student, standing eternally by my side, as my student, my advisor, and one day, I hope, my partner, my equal, and my friend.

“Those hopes, coupled with…certain experiences from our past, made Luna and I…more cavalier, in our response, than was appropriate.” The pegasus’ features darkened, and she looked away from her student. “I also, when I anticipated how events would progress, failed to consider the stunning lack of tact and diplomacy a certain mare would display.” Celestia sighed, her features softening again, her eyes returning to her student. The unicorn seemed far more composed, and the princess allowed herself to relax very, very slightly. “Twilight…I realize now how badly you must still hurt, and I’m truly sorry to push you once more, but we still have business to attend to this night, business of the greatest importance.” The white mare withdrew her comforting wing, her visage once more that of a noble ruler, despite the softer, more youthful face she wore as a pegasus.

Twilight rose, her legs protesting slightly, the burden of her heart eased from her conversation with Celestia. She still felt responsible, still felt she deserved some kind of punishment, but the Solar Princess’ kind words had acted as balm for her wounded heart, soothing the sharp pain of loss to a dull ache. And, she had to admit, her attempts at self destruction had been disturbingly cathartic. “I’m ready, Princess,” she firmly stated, and with a nod from the elder mare the duo was off.

Had Celestia looked back before she vanished, returning to the Citadel, she would have seen nothing save the endless expanse of White.

Had Twilight looked back, she would have seen her darker self, smirking, dissolving into an oily smoke as the two ponies vanished, a dark blight upon the emptiness, billowing after the pair, laughter trailing in its wake.

****

“I’m still not entirely convinced my sister expected her instructions to be taken quite so literally,” Luna mused, examining the gag which had appeared in Applejack’s mouth, wondering where, precisely, it had actually come from. The farmer glowered at the Princess of the Night, trying to remove the offending object, unable to find any kind of buckle or release…primarily because none existed. “It’s a single piece of leather, dear Applejack; you won’t be able to remove it without help,” she explained as the mare before her became increasingly frustrated. “If you shall promise to strive to be less…caustic henceforth, I shall aid you in removing it.” Applejack’s glower darkened, but she nodded all the same, amusing the dark blue unicorn. Her horn flashed briefly, and the gag vanished. “Mind your tongue, or it goes back in,” the princess nonchalantly warned, and walked away from the furious farmer, towards the center of the gleaming hall, where the other eight mares already waited, sitting around a large, circular table of polished bronze. The chamber itself lived up to its appellation of ‘great,’ equal in size to the grand ballroom of Canterlot Castle, constructed of the same precious materials that had adorned the exterior of the citadel.

“Pardon me, Princess Luna, but might I ask a question?” Rarity asked as the darker unicorn reached the table; the designer had had enough time to largely recovered her composure, though she still insisted Fluttershy remain close to hoof, and her lip still trembled of its own accord. The princess nodded as she sat across the table from the white mare, flanked on either side by two of the strange ponies. “I’m…forgive me, but I’m still a bit confused about…well, quite honestly about everything,” the fashionista said. “I don’t think I’m exaggerating that I, as well as my friends, have had a terribly eventful night, and I’d truly appreciate an explanation of…anything that’s happened in the last few hours?”

“You let your purple friend talk you into performing a ritual with her, and things got complicated,” the plum pegasus offered by way of explanation, accompanied by a wink. “That’s what happens when you trust a purple mare. Can’t trust purple mares. Any shade of it, doesn’t matter. Purple, lilac, lavender, plum…simply not to be trusted.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Dream, while I appreciate the effort, perhaps humor should be left for another time…or, at the least, we should leave any attempts at it to Watcher or Pinkie, for the time being,” the princess responded. Her voice was gentle, but there was no mistaking it for anything less than a royal command. The plum mare offered the princess an apologetic smile, and nodded. “Thank you. Now, as to your request, fair Rarity…nay, everypony, I understand that tonight has been…I should think ‘difficult’ is a rather severe understatement. We are prepared to answer your questions as best as we are able, but we would ask you to hold your questions until my sister returns with Twilight Sparkle, so that nopony need repeat herself.” Luna tilted her head slightly, her ears twitching as seemed to listen for something. “They should both be joining us again presently, if I’m not very much mistaken.”

“But…Twilight died, didn’t she?” Dash asked, frowning in confusion. “Yeah, hold our questions, I know, but…she fell into that fire…light…moat…thing, and it kinda…popped. So…didn’t the Princess…” Luna’s eyes narrowed as she gave the cerulean pegasus a dangerous look. “I mean, didn’t Princess Celestia, who is absolutely not the only princess we have, which is absolutely awesome,” she amended nervously, “go off on some…I don’t know, epic journey to get her back, or something cool like that?” The others stared at her, Rarity, Luna, and Lovecraft all with quirked eyebrows. “What? It’s in all the stories. Somepony dies, you go on epic journey to bring them back to life, or find something to revive them, or something,” the mare protested, her cheeks flushing.

“Okay, so…all anypony ever needs to do to avoid death is make sure they know at least one pony who’d be willing to undertake an epic journey and bring them back from…something? Someplace?” the aqua unicorn, Bridge Watcher, deadpanned, then leapt to her hooves. “Luna, you need to act on this information right away! Set up a new division of the Guard devoted to carrying out these grand quests, gather up those artifacts she’s talking about!” she continued, excitedly, waving her foreleg around for emphasis. “Why, you could very well be the pony who ends death forever, Luna! I wonder why nopony has thought of this before!” Save for Luna, the mares on her side of the table had begun to chuckle, and the Princess of the Night was visibly fighting the urge to join them. Satisfied, the unicorn turned to the plum pegasus, and winked. “And that, Dreamy, is why you leave the humor to me.” The dark purple mare bowed her head theatrically, still laughing as she did.

“No need to be sarcastic about it,” Dash groused from her side of the table. “Not like I have much to go on, ya know? Somepony dies, somepony else says she’s gonna go get her, what am I supposed to think, other than what’s in all the stories?”

Pinkie, sitting beside her friend furthest from the door, laid a gentle hoof on Dash’s shoulder. “Yeah, but think about it, Dashie. If Twilight died when she went into the glowy-moat thing…well, she’s already dead,” the pink mare offered gently. “Where’s she supposed to go, Detrot?”

“You never cease to surprise me, Pinkie Pie.” All eyes turned to the source of the familiar voice, to see that Luna had been correct; Celestia had arrive, accompanied by a tired, yet seemingly serene, Twilight Sparkle. Rarity raised a hoof, about to ask how the Princess had entered the chamber on the opposite side of the room from the only door, but a gentle touch from Fluttershy drew her attention, and a slight shake of the pegasus’ head silenced the unicorn.

Instead, she asked the next obvious question. “I’m sorry, Princess, but…well, there’s no way to phrase this delicately, and it seems to be a fairly important question to have the answer to,” Rarity began, her voice shaking. She didn’t particularly want to ask, but she knew she couldn’t well change her mind. “So…well, you told us earlier that our friends were dead, and now it seems that Twilight…died, a short while ago. So, bluntly put…how many of the ponies in this room are dead?” she asked. Eleven hooves rose slowly as each mare in the hall other than the white unicorn dutifully responded. Rarity’s left eye twitched half-closed.

“Oh, uh, Rarity…you should probably raise your hoof, too,” Fluttershy gently suggested. “You’re, well…kind of dead, too.” The unicorn’s eye twitched again at her friend’s statement.

“So…all of us are dead, now?” Rarity asked, voice rising in panic. She was greeted with ten solemn nods, and Pinkie’s customary rapid head-bobbing. “Follow-up questions, then. One, and my apologies for being self-centered, but was I dead back in the infirmary, or is this a more recent affliction for me? Two, where in Equestria are we now, if we’re dead?” she asked, voice still rising, nearly reaching the point of screeching. “Three, is there any chance there’s some kind of particularly strong alcohol close to hoof? I really feel like I’m going to need it before much longer.”

Celestia shook her head as she sat at the table, Twilight by her side, midway between the two groups of ponies. “To the second question, the short answer is that we’re not in Equestria at the moment, in the strictest sense. To the third, I’m afraid you’d need more than you could drink in a week to begin to feel the effect,” the Princess of the Day answered gently, fighting back the urge to smile at the white unicorn. “And, to the first…yes, and no.”

“Perhaps, sister, now is not the time for puckish non-answers?” Luna offered, flicking her eyes in a brief yet significant glance at the purple unicorn seated beside her sister. The white pegasus nodded, and gestured to her sister, ceding the lead to the Lunar Goddess. “Thank you.” The blue unicorn turned her attention back to the slightly panicked fashion designer. “Let us begin by assuaging what is, I’d imagine, your principle fear. You are not, nor were you during our conversation earlier, dead in the sense that anypony outside of the twelve mares here seated would understand,” she explained. Or at least, she thought she explained; the continued look of panic seemed to indicate to the contrary.

“Rarity…this is a good thing, I think. Sort of. Mostly,” Twilight offered, trying to appear confident. Inwardly, she still wasn’t sure if she truly believe that, but for Rarity’s sake at least it was true. “I think I figured it out after I…experimented, a bit, let’s say. We’re…not really dead, in general, it’s just we’re…not exactly alive, either,” she said, looking up at her mentor to see if her assumption was correct. Celestia nodded once, smiling at her pupil, and the purple unicorn continued. “But…it’s only the four of us that are like this, right, Princess?”

Celestia nodded again, though her smile had faded. “Yes, Twilight, you’re correct, at least mostly, in everything you’ve said. You, Rarity, Luna, and myself fall into an…unusual category of existence,” the Solar Goddess replied. “As for the others here…they, unfortunately, are dead in the traditional understanding.” She spared a glance towards the cerulean pegasus. “And I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash, but nothing will be bringing you back.” The blue mare nodded stoically, doing her best to hide her emotions, for fear of upsetting Twilight further.

Rarity wasn’t quite so concerned in that regard. “Please, please tell me you’re not about to say that those stories about Luna drinking blood are true,” the designer practically pleaded, her voice still pitching higher and higher. Fluttershy wrapped her forelegs around her friend, humming softly in an attempt to calm the high-strung mare, finding little success.

Luna sighed deeply. “No, I do not drink blood. Nor do I sacrifice ponies to some ancient evil force, abduct foals and perform horrifying experiments upon them, raise the dead as some kind of unholy army to once again serve as my soldiers in a war against my sister, or turn into some kind of she-wolf once a month.” She quickly pointed a hoof at her sister. “Don’t say it, Tia,” she warned.

“I was simply going to clarify what we are to everypony, Luna,” Celestia replied sweetly. “Why, what did you think I was going to say?” The younger sister glared at the older, who simply continued to smile as she turned away from the annoyed unicorn to the panicked unicorn. “Rarity, please, calm down. You are not truly dead. Twilight is not truly dead. Luna and I are not truly dead, and nopony is going around drinking blood to sustain themselves,” she said soothingly, her voice oddly melodic. She sat back slightly, and began to survey the younger mares. “The ritual the six of you performed earlier was meant to ‘concentrate the power of the Elements of Harmony within the chosen vessels.’ That much, you knew. Unfortunately, Twilight didn’t know, couldn’t have known, that when the spell was created, there was no distinction between the Elements as an idea, the crystals which focus those ideas into power, and the ponies who wielded that power,” the Princess explained solemnly. “At the time, each pony who wielded one of the Elements was known by three names, so close was the association; their given name, their Element, and the shape their focus took.”

“The purpose of the ritual was to combine the essence of six ponies into two vessels, empowering those chosen two with greater strength, to more effectively combat those who would destroy Harmony,” Luna took over from her sister, a hint of pride in her voice, mixed with a hint of old sorrow. “It was…it was a sacrificial rite, truthfully. Six ponies were offered, their spirits ripped from their bodies. The power of the Elements, augmented by the magic of a ley nexus, tethered those spirits to the world of the living, keeping them from completely crossing the void into true death. There, trapped between life and death, four would be consumed to empower the remaining two, transforming their bodies and binding them eternally to the world between worlds, not longer strictly alive, but spared from death’s embrace forevermore.” The dark blue unicorn heaved a heavy, world-worn sigh. “That was the intent of the ritual’s creator, in her desperation. A dark bargain, struck to stave off an even greater darkness. But…things didn’t quite work as expected. It was thought that the essence of the four ponies who sacrificed their lives would be consumed completely to empower the vessels. Instead…”

“Instead,” Celestia continued, as Luna trailed off, sadness in the unicorn’s eyes as she looked at the ponies beside her, “the power of all three ponies joined into one body, the essences mingled, not consumed; three beings in one form. The pony whose body had been transformed retained control of her body; the others existed within the host’s mind and could extend a certain amount of influence over her, mostly through simple verbal suggestion, though more…forceful means do exist.” She paused, letting the significance of that statement sink in.

“I’m…going to spend the rest of eternity…with Pinkie Pie…inside my head,” Twilight whispered as she realized her fate.

“Yup! And Fluttershy’ll be there, too! Isn’t it great, Twilight?” Pinkie agreed, genuinely pleased by the revelation. The lavender unicorn managed to force herself to nod, looking at the white mare beside her with pleading eyes.

“Oh, uh…don’t, don’t worry to much about me, Twilight. I tend to be a very quiet house guest, for the most part,” Fluttershy tried to reassure her purple friend, meeting limited success.

Rarity’s eyes had resumed twitching as the ramifications of her own situation struck her. “And I’ve been joined…with Rainbow Dash…and…Applejack.” The white unicorn had turned pale, and had a slightly dangerous look in her eyes as she leveled a hoof at the farmer. “Those headaches earlier, those were the two of you, weren't they!”

“Well…yeah, okay, one of them was mine,” Dash admitted sheepishly. “But you know what you were thinking at the time…you have to admit, Rarity, that wasn’t cool, thinking something that…wrong, about Twi’. And the other ones were all Applejack.”

“I’ll see what I can do to help you with that particular issue, darling,” Lovecraft promised sympathetically. “After seeing how she made you react to the mere prospect of shading the truth a little …well, I can’t say I envy you, being stuck with her in your head. It will certainly complicate matters in the immediate future, if nothing else.”

“Listen there, missy, I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t go around lying to everypony like that. It just isn’t right,” the farmer said, firm in her convictions. “Wait…how did I know that? And how’d I give Rarity a headache when I heard about it?” she wondered, brow creasing in thought.

The black mare across the table sighed, exasperated. “Weren’t you paying attention? You and the blue one with the colorful hair over there are part of your rather polished friend now. So, what she knows, you know, and vice-versa. And if you object to something she intends to do, or be complicate in, you can make your feelings known. She was going to lie, you give her a headache. A bit of an immature response, really,” the earth pony explained, a hoof pressed to the side of her head, massaging in little circles. “As for who I think I am...my Princesses, might I humbly suggest we all…formally introduce ourselves?”

The sisters looked at each other, silently deliberating. Luna quirked an eyebrow. Celestia thought a moment, looking towards the chambers tall ceilings as she thought. The dark unicorn rolled her eyes in mock-frustration. The light pegasus considered her student for several long seconds, then finally nodded, a gesture mimicked by her younger sister. Six mares closed their eyes in unison, and six nearly blinding lights surrounded them, fading slowly to reveal six familiar, yet significantly different accessories.

“I, my dear,” Lovecraft began, a hoof brushing against the silver key pendant now around her neck, “am the Duchess Lovecraft, the Silver Key, formerly Royal Spymistress of the Everfree Kingdom, Breaker of Hearts, and wielder of the Element of Honesty.” She smirked as Applejack’s jaw hung open. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.

The plum pegasus looked at Luna, shifting her own necklace as it lay against her throat. “Well, if we’re doing this now…” she began, clearing her throat. “Dream Catcher, the Ivory Feather, Thief of Dreams, and wielder of Generosity,” she introduced herself, nodding respectfully. “Oh, and before you lot even need to ask, I was stealing from those who really and truly deserved it, to help those who truly needed it, so I’ll thank you not to argue about a thief wielding Generosity,” she added with a practiced ease, her accent growing more pronounced as she did.

“Dame-Captain Molehill, the Opal Axes,” the green earth pony announced as if responding to an order, unconsciously raising a hoof to touch the blue stone of the crossed axes at her throat. “Former Royal Tactician and Pathfinder, Everfree Kingdom, and Element of Loyalty.”

The aquamarine unicorn smiled, realizing it was her turn. “Lady Bridge Watcher, the Sapphire Stream, former Ambassador of the Everfree Kingdom, wielder of the Element of Laughter,” she said with a lopsided grin, the dark blue gemstone suspended in such a way that the golden necklace above mimicked her cutie mark perfectly. “And very well acquainted already with one of your number,” she added with a wink at Pinkie.

The white pegasus stood solemnly, and cleared her throat. “While I’d like to think my dear student and her friends can remember me,” Celestia began lightly, looking down playfully at her seated, awestruck student, “I shall add that I was once known as the Topaz Sun, and that I am, of course, Ruler of Equestria, uncrowned Queen of the Everfree Kingdom, and wielder of the Element of Kindness.” She paused, tapping the orange gemstone circle around her need as she looked between the two groups. “A shortened list, naturally. The last time anypony tried to recite all of my titles, it took nearly three days, and a dozen heralds collapsed from exhaustion.”

The final mare stood, shaking her head in amusement. “In such case, sister, I shall extend the same courtesy. I am…”

“Diamond Crescent…” Twilight interrupted, finally putting the pieces together.

“Indeed, Twilight Sparkle,” the princess nodded regally, gesturing towards the diamond crescent moon atop her tiara. “I am the Diamond Crescent, Ruler of Equestria, Grand Mistress of Sorcery, and Element of Magic, among my many other honorifics. Though I must say I always preferred to use my given name when possible. Wouldn’t you agree, Tourmaline Star?” She winked at the lavender mare, the ghost of a smile crossing her lips before she resumed her formal countenance. “And I fear I owe each of you an apology, after a fashion. After all, I created the ritual which caused this to occur.”

Chapter 8

Nopony spoke, each seemingly unwilling to be the first to break the silence that had settled over the hall following the revelation of the six mare’s identities, as well as Luna’s own knowledge of the ritual; even Pinkie sat silently, stunned that shared such a profound connection with one of her oldest, and, even by her standards, oddest, friends. The six more recent arrivals all stared at the counterparts, Twilight’s attention divided between Luna, her predecessor as the Element of Magic, and Celestia, her teacher in the art and science of magic. At last, the purple unicorn found her voice, asking the question which seemed most pertinent. “This…this is another ‘more than a thousand years’ situation, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice small, as her gaze settled on her mentor.

The white pegasus nodded. “Three thousand, three hundred, twenty-five years, Twilight. Luna is four years my junior, and the others lay between us.” Celestia explained wistfully, preempting the next question. “For three millennia, three centuries, seven months, and eighteen days, we have walked this world as immortal being, not dead, but no longer truly alive; a sacrifice we gladly made to save our kingdom, our friends, and our families from the greatest foe our world has ever known,” she continued, her voice growing more forceful, more regal.

“Discord,” Dash interjected, no hint of uncertainty in her voice. Fluttershy squeaked in fear at the name, the ten other ponies at the table grimacing. “Except…we managed to stop him as normal ponies…”

“Yes, Rainbow Dash, you did,” Celestia confirmed, her still regal tone gaining a sharp edge. “You must understand, though, that the Discord you fought was…wounded. He was still weakened from his stone sleep, his powers limited by the peace and order which now govern the world, and he was focused on punishing my sister and me, more than on restoring his power over Equestria. Had his actions not been guided by his desire for petty vengeance, had he had the wherewithal to simply destroy each of you outright, instead of twisting you into mockeries of yourselves, had he faced you while empowered by a world which embraced his madness…I fear the Everfree would once again have proven to be our final stronghold; the last land forever free of the taint of chaos.” The Princess of the Day laughed bitterly. “Almost ironic, that he’d be less dangerous when he was actively trying to defeat us, than when he merely wanted to sow chaos.”

“I’m sorry, but…well, he seemed fairly chaotic to me,” Fluttershy offered, timidly, flinching as two earth ponies fixed her with scowls. “I…I just meant that the strange weather, and twisting all of the animals, and all the floating buildings…seemed pretty chaotic. If you don’t mind me saying,” she squeaked, cowering behind her mane.

Molehill shook her head, scowl deepening. “Yeah, it does seem like that…until you realize you only had to deal with him for a day. Chocolate rain doesn’t seem so bad…until the next day he decides he’d rather it rain poison that looks and tastes like chocolate milk. Animals with freakishly long legs don’t seem to bad, until then he decides it’d be funny if they had long fangs and claws to match those legs, and a powerful need to snatch up foals,” she said, coldly. “Fighting his soldiers wouldn’t seem that bad, until one day those soldiers turn back into those missing foals after you’ve run them through, and you have some poor, scared little filly or colt on the end of your blade, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes as they take their last breath.” She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “More of my soldiers took their own lives after that battle than he managed to take form us in any other three.”

The six younger mares began to feel ill as the gravity of the soldier’s words took hold. “So you begin to see why the ritual sacrifice of four ponies was deemed an acceptable cost,” Luna said sadly, leaning her head back so far that it seemed she was addressing the ceiling. “He thrived on chaos in the purest sense, and he didn’t seem to care how he arrived at it. When he took the field himself, he was as happy to see his own soldiers struck down as he was to see one of our warriors fall. He would send two legions against us with goals and strategies which completely contradicted each other, and cheer as his own forces destroyed themselves. More than once, our army would be pitted against his, when more of his soldiers arrived and began slaughtering the force we had engaged, actively ignoring our troops. It was as though it didn’t matter to him if his plans even succeeded, so long as he had plans in motion,” she continued, remembering wearily the dark world into which she’d been born, the world she and her sister had worked so hard to improve…the world she herself had once nearly undone. “That was Discord as a true god of chaos; nearly a force of nature.

“There was only one thing we could depend on when he was involved, one response which was guaranteed; no matter what else might have been happening, if all six of us took the field, if all six Elements of Harmony ever stood united before him, he would flee before we could use our combined power against him. We had no way to prevent his escape, no spell which could hold him, no feint which could catch him by surprise, and any mortal pony who strayed too long from the protection of the Everfree would come under his influence, preventing us from engaging him in a prolonged chase for fear that we would become his puppets. The only way to defeat him…was to face him as equals.” The Princess of the Night paused, collecting her thoughts. “We were the Elements of Harmony, sworn protectors of the kingdom; my sister and I were the princesses of the realm, a shining beacon of hope and warmth, and the light to guide them through the darkest of nights. It fell to us to do what was necessary, and with the blessing of our Father and Mother…we did what was necessary.

“The ritual…it gave us strength to rival his own. We stood at last as equals to him, and ended in hours a war which had raged for centuries.” The dark blue unicorn closed her eyes against the tears. “And, as our subjects celebrated in the streets below, Celestia and I destroyed all my notes, all my research on the ritual of joining, and sealed away the tomes I had used in my studies behind seals only we could open, to spare anypony else ever having to make the sacrifice what we had made.” She finally looked down at her rapt audience. “And yet somehow, the scroll which contained the ritual itself survived both the flame and the intervening years, and you six are now bound to the same fate as we have been. That is why I owe you an apology; I was not thorough enough on that ancient night, and now you bear the burden for my negligence.”

Silence once again settled over the twelve, six lost in the memories of so long ago, six shaken by the unexpected darkness which had tainted their world in the distant past. “You can see, my most faithful student, why we take care to cultivate the histories in a certain way, and why I don’t allow every detail of the past to enter the historical records,” Celestia offered sadly. “Most ponies, if they were to think of Discord, would recall the madness of his short-lived return, marked most prominently by candy clouds, chocolate rain, and a general disruption of their orders lives. If they fear him, they fear him as a fickle, all-powerful clown, twisting the world for his own amusement, annoying but ultimately harmless,” she explained, looking at each of the six ponies in turn, her gaze lingering on Pinkie Pie for a few seconds longer than the others. “If, on the other hand, they knew the true extent of his past crimes, knew how many of the monsters that plague Equestria to this day trace their origins back to his magic, knew what fate they had only avoided by the actions of six young mares…” Her voice trailed off, the implications obvious.

“Is…is that why so many plays and old stories make the monsters seem kind of bumbling and silly, even if they're still scary?” Fluttershy asked quietly.

“Oh, or have up-tempo musical numbers about the villains? Like the purple one with the witches?” Pinkie asked, the general malaise of the history lesson proving less effective at dampening her mood.

Celestia nodded, a slight smile tugging at her lips; the pink mare truly was a worthy successor to the Element of Laughter. “Yes, to both of you. Certain threats must be remembered, if only so those who sacrificed themselves to defeat those threats are not forgotten; at the same time, I refuse to allow my little ponies to live in fear, knowing the true extent of the evil which would destroy them given the chance. So, the dark chapters of our history are…sanitized, and made palatable. Unicorns with great and terrible magic, capable of bringing forth dark beings of untold power, are turned into singing witches; demons spawned from the blackest pits of Tartauros are defeated by a clever pony with a bell. Our heroes live on, while our monsters become objects of ridicule, safely bound behind walls of stone and magic,” she explained, pointedly ignoring the dark blue unicorn and black earth pony who were rolling their eyes at her, looking sympathetically at her student. “Though, as I said, the true stories are recorded, kept safe for all time,” she assured the lavender unicorn.

“Right, this is all fascinating, really,” Rainbow Dash interrupted, squirming slightly. “I’m sure it’d be really interesting to find out that Ahuizotl is real, or that Nightmare Moon ate babies…” She paused when she realized what she had just said without thinking, further realizing that the Princess of the Night was glaring at her angrily. “Bad example, sorry. What I’m trying to say is, it’s cool and all, but…I mean, shouldn’t we be dealing with matters closer to hoof? Like…what happens with us now?”

“Now…things become interesting for the six of you,” Luna replied slowly, still glaring at the cerulean pegasus. “Twilight and Rarity…the two of you are divine beings now, goddesses, equal in power, at least in theory, to my sister and me.” She stopped, and looked to Celestia, who nodded, bidding the younger sister continue. “As to what that means for you…there will likely be expectations of you, and duties relevant to you…attunements, but your lives need not change completely.”

“Twilight, regardless of anything else, I am still glad to call you my most faithful student; if anything, your new status only presents new fields of study,” the Solar Goddess assured the mare beside her, gently draping a wing around Twilight’s back as she turned her attention to Rarity. “As for you, Rarity, there is nothing to preclude you from continuing your endeavors as a designer…though it might behoove you to do so under a false name.” The princess smiled wryly. “A physical goddess might have a slightly unfair advantage over her competition, when it comes to demand, after all.”

“Understandable, I suppose. I must admit, I wouldn’t have fancied my chances at being noticed as a designer if either of you had been in the field as well,” the fashionista agreed amiably. “And it wouldn’t be terribly generous of me to crush my rivals so thoroughly that they would rue any ill-words they ever spoke about me, and beg my forgiveness. Though it would allow me to be generous with that forgiveness, I suppose…” she mused, chuckling to herself as Twilight shot her an unamused look; a look shared by nopony else, the other mares at the table all decidedly amused. “Though, I do have a question, if I may? You spoke of our ‘attunements,’ Princess Luna. Am I correct in assuming you refer to…whatever it is Twilight and I have become linked to, as you and Princess Celestia are linked to the Moon and Sun?”

The Princess of the Night nodded. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Rarity, but generally, yes. It is slightly more than that, however; while my sister and I are attuned to the celestial bodies we govern, each of the six of us has dominion over a certain aspect of the world. In addition to her power as Princess of the Sun, my sister is also the Builder of Bridges, both literal and figurative, and the Finder of Paths,” she explained, nodding in turn at Celestia, Bridge Watcher, and Molehill. “I, meanwhile, am Princess of the Moon, but I am also Mistress of Dreams and…Lady of Love,” she concluded sourly; Lovecraft snorted in annoyance.

“’Lady of Love?’” Twilight asked, frowning in confusion. “But I thought Cadence was the matron of love…”

Luna blushed slightly. “Yes, well…that title is…somewhat euphemistic,” she explained hesitantly, looking uncomfortably at the black earth pony seated near her.

“I did so much, saved so many lives,” the dark mare grumbled, half to herself. “I could hide better in broad daylight than most ponies could on a moonless night; I could listen to a whispered conversation in a crowded tavern from sixty feet and not miss a word. But no, the cosmos decides that the skill I get to have represented as my divine talent is my ability to seduce some of Discord’s strongest supporters, and get them to spill their guts in the afterglow…or before, if we just needed them dead.” Six mares blinked at her outburst, blushes of varying intensities growing on their faces.

“It’s…a bit of a sore subject, for the three of us, but especially for Lovecraft,” the plum pegasus explained, diplomatically

“Yes, it’s a sore subject,” Lovecraft agreed angrily, her refined manners never slipping. “You didn’t have to deal with the fallout when somepony let it slip, and suddenly you’re the patron goddess of whores!”

“Moving on,” Celestia interjected, not wanting the conversation to derail as a result of that ancient drama, and mindful of the growing discomfort from the mares seated on the opposite side of the table. “Each of you has, as a result of the joining, had an aspect of your talent expanded and empowered, to the extent that it is, to put it in its most impressive sense, your domain,” she elaborated upon Luna’s explanation. “Just as I rule over the sun and all its aspects, so, too, will the six of you possess near absolute control over your domains.”

“Dang…okay, this whole thing just got a little bit more awesome,” Dash said, nodding appreciatively. “So…I’m guessing from that…thing I think we probably shouldn’t discuss, that we don’t get to pick what we get?” Celestia and Luna both shook their heads. “So…can you tell what each of us is, or is this something we should just know, or…how does that work?”

“Depends on what you got,” Dream Keeper replied vaguely. “Tia and Luna, they knew right off; kind of hard to miss having complete control over the sun and moon. Mine was fairly obvious, too, after the first time we Dream-walked. The…less obvious ones took a bit of time to figure out, though,” she explained, then shrugged. “It’ll be something related to your original talents, but beyond that, just have to figure it out.”

“Well, except for your little lavender librarian,” Bridge Watcher added. Twilight quirked an eyebrow, point a hoof at herself, as Celestia sighed.

“Bridge…we weren’t going to mention that until we were sure, remember?” the Princess of the Day asked rhetorically, eliciting a mischievous chuckle from the aquamarine mare. Feeling her student’s expectant gaze, Celestia shook her head. “We aren’t entirely sure yet, Twilight, but…when the six of us performed the ritual, and Luna and I attuned to our new powers…for just a moment, the sun and moon vanished from the sky, their light extinguished as they connected with their new mistresses.” She hesitated, considering the wisdom of adding additional pressure to her already beleaguered student, before acknowledging the choice was already made for her; Twilight Sparkle would not allow such an important piece of information to be kept from her easily. “Earlier tonight, as your ritual completed…something similar happened. As near as we can tell, at the moment of your ascension…magic…stopped,” she explained uncertainly.

She was consciously leaving out the reports which had arrived as she and Luna waited, reports coming from across the country and beyond, of magic simply…failing for an instant before correcting itself. A few ponies had been hurt; pegasi had fallen through suddenly immaterial clouds and struck something when the water vapor again became solid against their bodies; earth ponies pulled muscles as their fabled stamina vanished briefly; unicorns casually levitating something over their head suddenly found themselves with minor concussions as their telekinesis failed. There had been no fatalities, so far as anypony knew, but she had decided not to burden the vulnerable mare with any more guilt for the present.

“I…you…that…” said mare sputtered as she grappled with the implications. “Princess…you aren’t saying that…you think I’ve become…no, no, you can’t think I’m…”

“The goddess of magic?” Luna prompted, allowing herself a small smile despite the continuing gravity of the situation; the look of disbelief on flustered student’s face allowed her no option in the matter. “That’s exactly what we think, actually. There’s no doubt that one of you has assumed that mantle, dear Twilight, and…” she looked at the other five arguable candidates, shaking her head. “Well, let us suffice it to say you’re the only logical option.” The unicorn slumped forward, eye twitching as she began to panic, yet found herself too drained, both physically and mentally, to raise a protest, especially as Luna’s reasoning was unarguable; in her heart, she knew it was true.

“Oh, I hope I get to be goddess of partying!” Pinkie interjected cheerfully, bouncing on her haunches. “I can be like some kind of party puppeteer, pulling the strings from the shadows to make sure everypony always has the most fun ever, and make sure every party is always perfect.”

“So, Twi is goddess of magic…and the rest of us have to figure out what our divine powers are, huh?” Applejack asked, shaking her head ruefully, leaving Pinkie to her own thoughts. “Well, maybe we can get Apple Bloom and the Crusaders to help us figure that out?” she joked, envisioning her little sister’s response to that particular challenge; Equestria likely wouldn’t survive. “This’ll be a bit jarring for her, I suppose, me not having a body anymore. And it’s going to make Applebuck season a fair bit trickier…”

“No,” Celestia interrupted suddenly. There was no malice in her voice, no anger, just a simple statement. Twilight flinched at the familiar tone, and Applejack quirked an eyebrow.

“Sorry, Princess…‘no’ what?” the farmer asked slowly, confusion on her face.

“I mean that no, you won’t be speaking with your sister, or helping your family with the harvest, Applejack, at least not in any direct sense. You likely won’t see them after tonight, except when they have cause to interact with Rarity,” the white pegasus replied, a note of sorrow entering her voice. She looked at the four bodiless mares in turn, the corners of her mouth pulled down. “I’m sorry, my little ponies, but none of you will.”

“But…but you said Twilight didn’t have to say goodbye to her family!” Applejack protested angrily, rising to her hooves.

“And she doesn’t. Neither does Rarity. But the rest of you…the rest of you will not even be given the opportunity to say goodbye.” The pegasus paused a second, considering. “Perhaps Pinkie will. From what Bridge Watcher has told me of her talents, she seems to have a certain mastery of this world which I must confess to being jealous of. And if anypony were to make a believable ghost, it would be her. But the rest of you…to the rest of the world, you are dead, and so you must remain.”

“You must understand,” Luna began, casting a curious glance at her sister, wondering why the normally kind mare was being so harsh in her explanation, “that this goes far beyond the four of you. Think for a moment, what might happen if you tried to retain your old lives; if rumors began to spread that Rarity and Twilight heard the voices of friends believed to be dead, and acted upon those voices. Imagine what would happen if ponies began to wonder if my sister and I heard voices as well,” she continued, sighing to herself. “Much as it pains me to dwell upon this truth, I have given our subjects reason enough to fear me in the past; there are those who would any evidence of my madness against me, against us all. ‘If one sister is mad, might it not run in the family?’ these malcontents could say. ‘Perhaps it would be best if they were…handled, before they can destroy us all.’” The Princess of the Night sighed again.

“The words of those who would wish power for themselves, at the expense of the common pony, embraced by cowards and the weak-willed. In truth, such ponies would pose no threat to us, but with sufficient cause they might be able to divide the nation against itself, and once more plunge the land into chaotic civil war,” Celestia took over for her sister, the other mares on her side of the table nodding solemnly. “And then, Luna and I could well be transformed into the very thing we sacrificed so much to stop; tyrant gods, sending pony against pony for our own goals. Or worse, Discord could rise again amidst a nation divided. His defeat…even now, it is merely a delay. And if he returns when the sons and daughters of Equestria spill their own blood, when chaos waxes and harmony wanes…” Luna shuddered in fear at the thought. “For good or ill, we cannot allow that to come to pass.”

“Horseapples,” Applejack cursed, her former restraint forgotten. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with Pinkie becoming a party-planning puppet-master. I don’t see the difference between that, and me still working with my family to improve our crops.”

“It’s because of me,” Twilight replied, making a bit of a leap to what seemed a logical conclusion. “At least…partially, I think. Assuming her power is related to party-planning, assuming that’s even a valid…thing, in this case, Pinkie can, theoretically, plan her parties anonymously, through intermediaries…and, if she ever gets found out, it can be explained away as an outgrowth of my tendency towards organization. We could even pass it off as something I was doing to honor the memory of my dear lost friend,” she reasoned, gesturing towards the pink earth pony. “I have a feeling we could use a similar excuse to bring some of your animals to the castle, Fluttershy; call it a…dying request. Nopony who knows me would think it was that unusual, for me to do something like that.

“But Rarity…isn’t exactly the kind to get her hooves dirty on a farm for no reason. No offense, Rarity,” she added quickly. The fashionista pursed her lips thoughtfully, but nodded, forced to admit the truth in her purple friend’s words. “So, anypony who knew Rarity would find it extremely unusual if she suddenly, and inexplicably, developed an intense interest in apple cultivation techniques. Especially if she happened to suddenly have an intimate knowledge of Apple Family methods.” She turned her head slightly to focus on Rainbow Dash. “Or if she suddenly gained a profound appreciation for stunt-flying and the Wonderbolts.” The brash pegasus frowned darkly, glaring between the princess and the pupil unhappily, the purple mare recoiling from the look as if physically struck.

“Well, that’s just awesome,” she responded bitterly. “No, really, that’s fantastic. So Pinkie gets to be this big shot party goddess, Fluttershy gets to keep her animals, and AJ and I get to…what, sit on our backsides?”

“Nah, Dash, weren’t you paying attention? We get to watch whatever Rarity does. Won’t that be exciting, watching her make frilly dresses for all the puffed up noble ponies and run around playing goddess, knowing that my family is off struggling to keep the farm running with just Big Macintosh around to handle the heavy work?” Applejack seethed, past the point of minding the venom lacing her words; her gaze was fixed firmly on the white pegasus at the head of the table. “Maybe Apple Bloom can abandon her education to help out with the harvest; won’t that be just dandy?”

Celestia met the farmer’s glower with a cool stare of her own. “Allow me to remind you, Applejack, that while I’m not unsympathetic to your frustration, I’ve had thousands of years of practice dealing with petulant nobles; tantrums do little to impress me anymore,” the Goddess of the Sun said, her tone level despite the warning. “I never said we would allow your families to suffer from your absence; you are all legitimate heroes of the realm twice over, and the official stance shall be that you gave your lives in defense of Equestria.” Celestia lifted her head, gazing down her nose at the orange earth pony, an eyebrow quirked; Twilight recognized it as the look she gave to ponies she was daring to challenge her further. “Your families will all receive generous stipends as a result; more than enough for yours to hire on additional help as needed, Applejack.”

“Oh, you’re going to pay them off. That’s nice,” Dash responded, anger dripping from her words. “So…how does that compensate my parents for losing their only daughter? How does that compensate me for having to know that they’re grieving my death, and I can’t do anything to help?” The mare stood, turning from the group, and began to walk towards the door leading from the hall. After a moment of contemplation, Applejack joined her.

“Applejack…Dashie…” Pinkie called out sadly, raising a hoof towards them. Neither mare turned back, their hoofsteps echoing off the chamber’s floor as they walked to, and through, the grand door, leaving the others behind.

“Well, they handled that well,” Lovecraft mused as she turned from the door to face the others. “Would you like me to try to talk to them, Tia? Much as I may dislike my counterpart’s lack of tact…she and I have common ground here,” she offered, her tone shifting to one that even those closest to her rarely heard: absolute sincerity.

Celestia considered briefly, then nodded. “Please, Lovecraft. Dream Keeper, if you could talk to Rainbow Dash, as well, that may help.” She raised a hoof as the deep purple pegasus opening her mouth, silencing the other mare. “Yes, Dream, I know I’ve been asking you to do a great deal tonight, and I apologize for that, but I have the sense she’ll respond better to another pegasus than she would to an earth pony, and I doubt she’d be inclined to listen to anything I’d try to say to her. So please…for me?” she pleaded, and Dream Keeper nodded dutifully, rolling her eyes as she did.

“Come on, Lovie, let’s go keep an eye on them, so we don’t have to waste time trying to find ‘em later,” she suggested, and without another word she and the silver-maned earth pony vanished from the hall.

“H…how did they just…I mean, they’re not unicorns, so…” Twilight sputtered. She was beginning to agree with Rarity’s desire for a drink, and indeed part of her mind seemed to have begun to independently work on a way to hyper-saturate the liquid, thus overcoming their apparently heightened resistance to its effects.

“Oh, it’s actually pretty simple, Twilight,” Pinkie explained sadly, her hair once more having straightened considerably as she thought of her families, both by blood and by choice, of never seeing any of them again without being thought a ghost. “The locational matrix here is in a constant state of flux under normal circumstances, and is really only stabilized by the will of the occupants. We’re not really here around a table, at the most basic level of this existence; we simply choose to perceive ourselves as seated around a table, as that’s simpler for our brains to process than trying to deal with the overstimulation of being everywhere and everywhen all at once,” the pink mare continued, ideally tracing a circle on the table with her hoof as tears trailed down her cheeks. “As a result, anypony who realizes that can, with a bit of practice, simply will themselves to stop perceiving themselves as seated at the table, and begin to perceive themselves as being someplace else; in the case of the two recently absent ponies, they’re presumably perceiving themselves as proximate in location to Dashie and Applejack, while also likely perceiving themselves as invisible.” She looked up sadly at the open mouthed stares coming from the other seven ponies. “Sorry…I get loquacious when I get depressed,” she said, sniffling sadly. “Just…give me a little bit. I’ll…I’ll be fine.” She felt a pair of legs wrap around her back, holding her comfortingly, began to cry, body wracked by sobs as Fluttershy held her tightly, yellow pegasus and pink earth pony seeming to cry in unison as they mourned their lost families.

“Tia, Luna…maybe you and the other two should go,” Bridge Watcher suggested quietly, holding back her own tears at the sight of the devastated mares before her. “They…aren’t the only ones who need to mourn, and the longer you make the families wait, the worse that waiting becomes.” She smiled weakly at the mare she’d befriended as a filly, so full of joy, so full of life even as she had walked the razor’s edge between the realms of the living and the dead. “I’ll keep an eye on these two, and you can come back and check after…your own unpleasantries are handled,” she offered, her voice trembling. The princesses looked at her sadly for a long moment before nodding in unison.

“If anything changes, alert me immediately, Bridge,” Celestia asked as she stood, wings unfurled majestically. “Twilight, Rarity…you cannot fathom how much it pains me to put you through all this, but there’s no other option. Now, we have kept your families waiting far too long already, and we have yet more preparations to make before dawn.” Luna joined her sister on her hooves, gaze still fixed on the weeping ponies to the instant she vanished from the hall. “This is going to seem odd, but…concentrate on not being here anymore. That’s really the simplest way to explain it,” she instructed, looking expectantly at the pair.

With one final glance at her devastated friends, Twilight closed her eyes, focused on the chamber, the citadel, the vast white emptiness, and focused on being anyplace else…

****

There was a sensation of sudden movement, accompanied by an unusual feeling as the material she was seated changed from perfectly smooth diamond to imperfectly smooth marble; a subtle, but noticeable, difference in texture, but one she could notice. Rarity blinked her eyes open, slightly disoriented and more than slightly queasy. “Oh, my…is teleportation always that disconcerting?” she asked with a grimace, closing her eyes again as she waited for the vertigo to pass. “If so, I can see why you don’t use it more frequently, Twilight.”

“No,” the purple alicorn replied, fighting her own sense of nausea, “this…this is different. Normally, it’ll just make me a bit dizzy, like if I’d spun in place for a few seconds. This…this is…”

“It gets less uncomfortable with practice,” Luna assured them both, rising to her hooves. “The need to travel there at all tends to diminish as well, but those are matters will have to wait for the time being.” Turning away from the two younger alicorns for a moment, she looked to her sister, eyebrow raised. “If you’ll forgive any perceived glibness sister…good news first, or bad news?” she asked, the sorrow clear in her voice despite the questionable phrasing of the question.

Celestia heaved a heavy sigh as she considered. “Bad news first, Luna. Bridge was right; they’ve waited too long as it is. We’ll call Rarity’s family back separately, to the room across from where we had Cadence wait with Twilight’s family, and then…deliver the news to the rest of the families,” she decided wearily. “Twilight, Rarity, if you could wait her for a few moments, while we…attend to that. Luna and I have planned out a cover story to explain the…changes, to your respective families, and it will be easier for all concerned if we’re there while you speak with them.”

Twilight nodded numbly, the weight of guilt once again pressing down on her, as she envisioned the response from the families of her ‘dead’ friends.

Rarity nodded as well, solemnly but without the acute sense of responsibility the purple mare was feeling. “Princesses…before you go, I…I’m sorry for once again asking a selfish question, I want to be prepared. Nothing…nothing has to change between myself and my family, beyond the painfully obvious, correct?” she inquired nervously. “I mean…I know you said Twilight and I wouldn’t have to say good-bye to them, but…”

The Princess of the Sun raised a hoof in a silencing gesture, her smile sad but beatific. “Rarity, the only thing that must change between you and your family is that you shall be taking up residence within the palace. Nothing else needs to change between you and they; not even your sister’s tendency to stay with you,” she gently assured the younger white alicorn, who nodded in relief. “The same holds true for you as well, my most faithful student,” she reminded the sorrowful mare.

“Though we must be adamant with you both; nopony must ever be told what truly happened this night, no matter the circumstances,” Luna added forcefully. “Now come, please, sister, let us go. It might not befit a princess, but you know how onerous I find this task; I would prolong it no longer than necessary.” With a final nod to the two newly risen alicorns, she opened the door with her telekinesis and stepped through, her hooves echoing off the marble as she walked, followed closely by her elder sister, who kindly shut the door as she passed into the hallway.

Finally free from her mentor’s presence, Twilight permitted herself to properly cry. With her only remaining friend as the sole witness, the purple alicorn vented the grief she’d held back since Celestia had found her following her attempts at self-destruction, the guilt at seeing her friends’ reactions to being told they’d never be allowed to interact with their families again, sorrow as she envisioned those families being told that their daughters and sisters were never coming home, the terrible fear that something was deeply wrong with her mind, something she couldn’t turn to anypony for help with, for fear of their response. She had to be strong, for her family, for her teacher, for the ponies who would soon stand above as a goddess. But for now, she wept, as her final friend walked over to the lamenting mare and wrapped her forelegs and wings around her, trying to comfort her miserable friend as best as she could.

****

The waiting room had become no more comfortable as time had worn on; if anything, it had become less comfortable, the heat and humidity continuing to rise in the insufficiently ventilated chamber as the tension felt by each of the adult ponies mounted. Since the earlier screams, there had been no sign of life from the hallway, and even after the barrier had faded none of the soldiers had passed through the doors to investigate. Nothing but silence; terrible, deafening silence.

It was a constant struggle for the waiting ponies to not think of it as the silence of the grave.

So, when the doors flew open, there was an initial rush of activity as everypony who’d been sitting leapt to their hooves, then immediately fell to their knees, heads bowed as Princess Luna entered the room, stepping to the side to allow her elder sister in as well. Almost as if guided by a single thought, sixteen pairs of eyes looked nervously at the divine sisters, and sixteen hearts began to break. Celestia’s composure was practically legendary; ponies sometimes said she would have the same visible reaction to a being told the royal kitchen had run out of cake, to being told a dozen foals had died in a school fire. That was not to say that her subjects thought her callous, certainly; it was simply accepted that the Princess of the Sun did not usually show her sorrow beyond a slight frown, lest she never stop crying, overwhelmed by the weight of sadness accumulated over her immortal life.

And here she stood, the Solar Goddess in all her glory…tears in her eyes and despair on her face, a despair matched by her sister.

“Rise, and be seated, my little ponies,” she commanded, in no mood to prolong the genuflection. She frowned at the oppressive heat, her horn flaring to life and dropping the temperature by nearly ten degrees. “Guards, leave us. My sister and I are in no danger from these ponies, and we would speak with them privately,” she ordered, her voice even and firm as she looked at the ranking mare. “We would have twenty of you remain in the corridor outside; the rest are to return to their normal duties.” The pale blue unicorn nodded, and the soldiers began to file out of the room with as much speed as the cramped space would allow. Soon, only twenty-two ponies remained in the room.

“The family of Rarity will step forward,” Luna commanded, her voice firm but not unkind. Nervously, the two adult unicorns left their seats and walked to stand before the goddesses, their filly between them. The Princess of the Night looked down at them, and nodded. “Go down this hall and through the fourth door on your right. My sister and I have much to explain to you, and we have no doubt you shall have much to discuss with your eldest child; we implore you to remain patient for a while longer. But know that she is well, and you need not fear during this final delay,” she instructed gently, gesturing the trio through the door with a nod. They walked through quietly, the stallion and mare suppressing a joint desire to cheer; their daughter was fine, after all.

The remaining ponies all stared at the princesses expectantly, hope rekindled in their hearts. After all, if one of them was alright, it was possible they all were. Celestia cursed silently; she’d been prepared for that reaction, had anticipated the looks of hope she wished she could recoil from. She had run through dozens of scenarios, trying to decide the kindest way to handle the news; she had ultimately decided, for good or ill, that giving four families a final moment of hope was the lesser sin than putting one family through the pain of loss, only to reveal that no, their daughter yet lived. And yet, as she caught sight of the pale yellow filly looking up at her, her young eyes filled with such joy, Celestia felt herself, for only the fourth time in her vast life, almost lose her nerve.

“It is with great regret,” she began at last, nearly flinching as she ground those embers of hope beneath her gilded hooves, “that I must inform you all of a terrible tragedy which occurred earlier tonight. At dusk, the six mares who wielded the Elements of Harmony performed a ritual meant to protect Equestria from an evil of unspeakable power,” she explained, leaving out certain inconvenient details. “While Equestria remains safe, that safety is not without a price.” She sighed heavily. ‘Still technically true, if not necessarily relevant,’ she thought to herself, considering how much it cost to maintain the Guard. “Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter, Applejack, the Element of Honesty, Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, and Fluttershy, the Element of Kindess, all gave their lives this night.” There is was; no more room now for hope, no more room for denial.

“While I know this will be little comfort to you, know that they shall be remembered for all time,” she promised as the first tears began to fall, thin lines streaking down coats of mustard yellow and brilliant red. “So long as my sister and I reign, these four mares shall stand first among the great ponies of legend, known to all ponies, from now until the end of time, as those who guarded the boundary between the light and darkness, between Harmony and Chaos, as four of the greatest heroes to tread upon the face of Equestria.” More faces were streaked with tears, as some of the ponies began to sob openly; the only faces yet untouched were the twin foals, groggy and confused from their sudden awakening, and the young filly, looking off into the distance, her eyes unfocused. “Their…remains shall be released to you in the morning, to honor in whichever fashion you deem appropriate, or, if you so choose, they may receive a royal funeral with full honors on the palace grounds. In either case, the royal treasury shall cover the cost of the arrangements.”

The Princess of the Sun was acutely aware of the filly, still staring without seeing, her small body trembling, yet not, it seemed, from crying. “Regardless of your choice, there will be a full memorial service held one week from today, at dusk, when the memorial honoring them will be unveiled and formally dedicated,” she concluded, and waited, waited for the anger, the shouted questions, and the fury of loss.

The older pegasus couple clung to each other, husband and wife trembling in quiet sorrow. They had been prepared for this day for years, though they never spoke of it; their daughter had been brash, fearless, some might say reckless, even as a foal. She celebrated her first birthday buzzing around their home, giggling madly as she crashed through walls while her parents tried to keep up. As she grew older, she only grew bolder, and they could only do so much to rein in her ambition. They encouraged her dreams, encouraged her to always do her best.

And she had. The first pegasus in more than an age to fly beyond the speed of sound, to generate the sonic rainboom, and before she was even truly grown. Then again, as she rescued her heroes and her friend. Their daughter, who had performed at a royal wedding. Their daughter, who they loved so very, very much. Their daughter, who they always feared would one day be recovered from a lonely crater, body mangled as she strove to do her best, to make them prouder than they already were. And here they were, only instead of dying in an unfortunate accident, she died a hero, saving the country again. Somehow…the pair thought she might have liked that, remembered throughout eternity as a hero, and that…helped, somehow.

“Princess,” the mare asked, struggling to control her tears, “I…forgive me my boldness, but…the arrangements, you spoke of help.” She took a breath as the divine sisters looked at her sadly. “I just…money can do only so much. It…it would have meant to world to Rainbow, if…,” she paused again, her voice cracking. “If…if perhaps one of the Wonderbolts could be there? For…for the…”

Celestia paused, just for a moment, and nodded solemnly. “She saved the lives of three of them directly, and all of them indirectly,” the Princess noted, trying to sound comforting. “The entire primary flight squadron will be there, regardless of time or location, in ceremonial black, with a memorial flyover. If that is agreeable to you, of course.” The mare nodded thankfully, and pulled her husband tighter as she imagined Rainbow Dash, her darling little foal, smiling at the thought.

The other pegasi were more vocal in their grief, mother holding her son and remaining daughter tight, father holding onto his wife and the family loudly mourned. Their youngest daughter had always been odd, in her way, not interested in normal pegasus activities. She hated flying, was afraid of heights, and secretly enjoyed clothes which were unwieldy and impractical in flight. She also had a father and mother who loved her regardless of her quirks, and an older brother and sister who weren’t above making sure anypony who hassled their ‘little lullaby’ wasn’t inclined to make that mistake again. The two siblings questioned, as they reached adulthood, if that might not have been a mistake, as their little sister remained shy and skittish around other ponies, comfortable only around her animals, never having had the need to stand by herself.

And then, that horrible day when the sun rose late, when their little Fluttershy proved herself a hero, standing up to a dark goddess. And after that, a dragon, a basilisk, a second, significantly darker god, and an army of love-eating bug-pony-monsters. And, amidst the world-saving, the shy little filly had found time to be, of all things, a fashion model. Her brother and sister’s sense of guilt had quickly been replaced with pride in their baby sister, along with a slight feeling of inadequacy when their mother had gushed about her daughter, the savior of Equestria before her older two children, instead of proclaiming their accomplishments in order based on age.

And now, she was gone, and they already felt the hole in their lives, a hole they’d never be able to fill. They had no request for the princesses, no special favor to ask; they each knew that Fluttershy would have hated having any extra attention. But her brother knew he needed to have a conversation with his wife when he got home; he had the name for the little filly she was carrying, the new life he hadn’t even told his parents about yet, wanting to wait until they had agreed what to call her. His little Fluttershy, named for her aunt, to carry on her spirit.

The rock farmers sat very still, mourning quietly, as was their way. The patriarch had been the second to begin to cry, tears streaming silently down his face as he had rested a hoof on his wife’s shoulder. Her tears, and those of his two daughters, were more pronounced than his, the three mares weeping openly, but it was still a subdued sorrow, a contained mourning. Pinkie had always been an oddity to the family, bright and bubbly in both personality and appearance, while the others had been dourer in form and thought. Her father and mother hadn’t strictly understood their filly’s penchant for frivolity, but neither had they discouraged it. They had done the best they could to support the child’s endeavors, and each had enjoyed the parties she threw for them, but in the end, the family’s rock farm simply wasn’t conducive to the growing mare’s talent. They had been sad to see her go, but the letters she had sent had assured them she was doing well, that she was happy, and so they were happy.

And now she was gone, and the world was a little sadder for it. But public displays of emotion, for good or ill, were not the way of the rock farmer, and so the true mourning would wait until they were gathered in private.

The Cakes sat quietly, each holding one of their foals with one leg as they sat, free legs wrapped around each other, unsure what the appropriate response was in their situation. They were sad, of course; Pinkie had been a dear friend at the least, and sometimes something like a sister or daughter. But they were surrounded by mares and stallions who had truly lost sisters and daughters, and neither baker wanted the true families to think they were cheapening their loss. So they sat quietly, holding their foals close, as Pound and Pumpkin looked at each other, wondering why the big-pink-funny one wasn’t making the ponies happy before they nodded off to sleep.

The Apple family was familiar with tragedy; Granny Smith had buried her husband herself, and then her son and daughter-in-law three months later. She had lost cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews; death was nothing new, not to her. That’s what she tried to keep telling herself, as she clung tightly to her grandson, eyes unfocused as she looked back on her granddaughter’s life, ended far too soon. The other family she’d lost had at least been older, and further along the road of life; each had left behind a wife or husband, and most at least one foal before they’d passed. But Applejack had been denied all that, dedicated to her family so much that she’d never had time to find love, to start a family. It had been work, work, and more work, at the expense of her health, her happiness, and, on the one occasion, her sanity, at least briefly. So dedicated to her family, and the community it had helped build, that she had refused to come home from the rodeo for fear of disappointing everypony, not for her failure to win, but for her failure to secure the prize money needed to repair the town hall. Granny Smith cursed herself as she thought, cursed herself for being too demanding of her older granddaughter, for ruining the mare’s life; a life that was now over far too soon.

For his part, Big Macintosh sat, one powerful foreleg wrapped around his granny, the other held out for when his baby sister decided she wanted a hug herself. His had been the first tears to fall, as he wept for his hard-working sister, maintaining a strong façade for the sake of the two remaining Apple mares. There would be time enough for him to grieve later, time enough to handle the logistics of running the farm by himself. For now, he merely needed to be there, the immovable object in the storm of loss.

And, finally, Apple Bloom. Her sister was dead. Her parents were dead. So much loss for one so young to bear. She’d never truly known her parents, never felt the need to mourn them; she was sad sometimes, because they weren’t there, because she was missing something she knew she should be, but it was a different kind of sadness, a distant sort of sorrow. Her sister’s death was a much more immediate thing, a much harsher wound. And yet, while she was sad, while she mourned, grief was not her predominant emotion.

She was angry. And, with a sudden burst of cold clarity, she launched herself at the door, diving between the goddesses and into the hallway. She’d been lied to, and she was going to have words with the pony who’d done the lying. Right behind the fourth door on the right.

Celestia, for her part, was impressed at the speed with which the filly moved as she calmly followed her through the doors, Luna trailing behind in barely contained shock and the yellow child slammed through the fourth door, into the room in which Rarity’s family waited, screaming furiously. “Well, I suppose we’ll be talking to Rarity’s family first,” she muttered to herself as she continued down the hall, and Luna ducked into the room in which the two freshly formed alicorns waited.

Chapter 9

Twilight sobbed as Rarity wrapped her wings around her guilt-ridden friend, nuzzling her even as she frowning slightly at the familiarity of the gesture. She had wings; real, proper wings, wings of muscle, flesh and feather, not the ethereal, gossamer constructs she’d experienced once before. If she was honest with herself, it was vaguely unnerving how natural they felt upon her back, how readily they responded to her, as if she’d always had them. That lack of novelty was an issue for later, as she focused on the crying alicorn, unsure what, if anything she should say to try to comfort her friend; considering what they’d been through, everything she could think to offer seemed woefully inadequate.

So she sat, her wings holding Twilight gently, a wet spot growing on her shoulder as the other mare wept, idly noting that the purple alicorn’s shimmering mane tingled as it brushed up against her coat, carefully keeping her own emotions contained as she comforted her friend; both of them being reduced to sobbing wrecks wouldn’t help anypony, and Twilight was, arguably, having a worse time of it than she was, her feelings of loss likely compounded by feelings of responsibility for their friends’ fates.

The designer’s ears twitched as her friend’s sobs became slower, growing more regular, patterns emerging as she was tried to speak through her sorrow. Rarity pulled back slightly, looking at Twilight, but remained silent, letting the lavender mare speak at her own pace. She drew a ragged breath and, with downcast eyes, choked out “I’m…s-sorry for this, Rarity,” through her tears.

Her friend shook her head, trying to smile for her friend’s benefit. “Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied softly as she pulled Twilight in closer. “After everything we’ve been through tonight, I think you’ve earned yourself a bit of a cry.”

“Not…not what I meant,” Twilight countered as she pulled away, still unable to completely control her tears. “I meant…I’m sorry for…for doing all this to you.” She gestured vaguely towards Rarity’s wings and her crystalline mane. “I…please, please don’t hate me,” she pleaded, once again devolving into uncontrolled sobbing.

Rarity blinked, taken slightly aback by her friend’s desperate request. “Twilight…I assure you, I don’t hate you for what’s happened,” she answered evening, finding it suddenly difficult to look at the weeping mare. “While I can’t…speak for the others, I don’t feel that you owe me an apology in the least.” She bit her lip, swallowing nervously. “If I’m to be quite honest, Twilight…I almost feel like I should be thanking you.” She tilted her head back, looking up to the ceiling. “Don’t misunderstand, Twilight…I’m not…pleased, that things turned out the way they did; it breaks my heart to think of the others, to think of what their families must be going through right now,” she elaborated as she stared at nothing in particular, struggling to keep herself from picturing her only family’s response had she been one of the four who’d been lost.

“But…there’s really no way to express this that doesn’t make me sound heartless, I’m afraid,” she continued, finally looking back at her friend. “Twilight…when you reach the basest level of things, neither of us has actually lost anything tonight; rather the opposite, to be honest. The others are, after a fashion, still alive; nothing is stopping us from spending time with them, at the least.” She paused, swallowing nervously, worried what reaction her next words might prompt. “The others…I can’t speak for them, Twilight; I’m not entirely sure how I’d react, were I in their place. But I can hardly hate you for taking them from us, even unintentionally, if they aren’t truly gone.

“And as far as you apologizing for ‘doing all this’ to me...Twilight, what has happened to me, personally, that I should be angry about?” she asked, spreading her wings as she stood. “Am I to hate you for my wings? Am I to vilify you for my immortality?” She looked down at the still crying alicorn, barely holding back her own tears as she shook her head. “Please, Twilight, please don’t think I don’t care about the others. You and I both know we never asked for this, and I would gladly surrender it without hesitation if it would restore our friends, if it would restore even one of them.” She tried to smile reassuringly at Twilight, managing only a wavering upward twitch of her mouth. “But I swear to you, Twilight, that I bear you no ill will,” she assured, trying to read her friend’s emotions, silently dreading that she would misunderstand her acceptance.

There were no words as the lavender mare launched herself at Rarity, throwing her forelegs around her friend’s neck as she broke down again, sobbing now in relief. Rarity, for her part, simply nodded to herself, and wrapped a leg around Twilight’s back, careful to avoid pressing against her wings as she let her friend cry, glad that she apparently didn’t think ill of her acceptance of their fate. Before either alicorn could speak again, they heard a loud, wordless, rather high pitched shout, and they both spun to face the door as it swung open.

Luna stepped into the room, shaking her head ruefully. She opened her mouth, then hesitated as she saw the tear stains marring Twilight’s face, her red, puffy eyes. She looked sadly at the first mare to accept her after her return, once more cursing herself for failing to ensure that the scroll had been destroyed and the ashes scattered to the winds so long ago. There were, regrettably, more important issues to attend to, though she made a mental note to help the newly empowered Goddess of Magic adapt to her new life, and to be there while she worked through her feelings of self-loathing, when time allowed. She was, after all, uniquely qualified in that regard.

There were more pressing matters at hoof, however, and she suppressed her sympathetic urges as she focused on Rarity. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have encountered a…small complication,” she began, taking care to keep her voice calm and even. “Applejack’s young sister…did not take the news of her sister’s loss well; that was her you no doubt heard shout before I entered.” She struggled briefly as she suppressed the urge to grin; it always amused her to hear foals trying to sound intimidating, conjuring images in her mind of a kitten who thought herself a lion. Unfortunately, it seemed to her that this foal had the intent to act upon her anger, which drained much of the humor from the situation. “Celestia is with them now, ensuring nopony comes to harm, but she has decided it best we present you to your family first, Rarity, both to reassure them of your safety, and to see if your presence might…defuse the situation.”

The designer was nearly at the door before the Princess of the Night had even finished explaining, reasonably sure she knew the cause of Apple Bloom’s anger; no doubt Sweetie Belle had translated her earlier scream of joy for her young friend, filling the filly with hope which was subsequently torn away. She turned, looking back at Twilight apologetically, sorry to have to leave the distressed mare. Twilight simply shook her head, gesturing for her friend to go and be with her family. Without any further hesitation, the purple-maned alicorn was out the door, quickly trotting down the hall to the open door.

“Twilight Sparkle…forgive me, but if I go, will you be alright by yourself for a short while?” Luna asked, and was greeted with a nod, which she quickly returned. “My sister and I shall be with you again as soon as we are able, Twilight; you and your family have much to discuss, as do the four of us,” she promised, and spun around, her magic pulling the door closed behind her.

Alone, Twilight Sparkle slumped forward onto her stomach, her chin resting against the hard floor, wings tucked against her side. She closed her eyes, still unable to halt the flow of tears, not particularly inclined to try. Rarity had had a point; after the night they’d had, grief was certainly an appropriate reaction, especially when coupled with her growing sense of guilt and, much as she hated herself for it, a thoroughly selfish fear. Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash had been understanding enough earlier, but that had been before Celestia had explained the full extent of their fate. “I wouldn’t blame them if they weren’t quite so understanding now,” she muttered dejectedly, hating herself even as she said it, for considering how her friends’ suffering was going to affect her.

“Oh, come on, Twilight, what do you think everypony is going to say about that?” a voice asked, ringing in her mind, and the alicorn’s eyes snapped open, breath catching in her throat, pupils shrunk to pinpricks of fear…until she realized the voice wasn’t the taunting, twisted version of her own she’d come to recognize. The voice which had just ‘spoken’ was lighter, bubblier, almost like…

“P-Pinkie?” she whispered aloud.

“The one and only!” came the quick reply; even without being able to see the pink mare, Twilight was certain her head was a nodding blur. “Sorry if I scared you; I bet it must be weird having another pony talking to you from the inside, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it, Pinkie,” Twilight answered, deciding to forego actually speaking; if they wanted to avoid seeming crazy in public, best to get into the habit of not talking to the voices in her head. “Wait…how does this work?” she asked, suddenly nervous. “I mean, I know Celestia said you could talk to me, but…you can’t…”

“Read your thoughts?” Pinkie prompted, and Twilight flinched at the idea. “Nah…well, not unless you let us, anyway. Oh, hang on a sec…” Twilight swore she heard muted whispers clouding her own thoughts, and had to admit she was more than slightly disturbed. “Sorry, Bridgy just wanted me to let you know that the Princesses are going to teach you and Rarity how to stop us from seeing and hearing everything, in case you want any privacy so you can…” There was a loud gasp of shock. “I’m not going to talk to Twilight about that; it’s rude!” Pinkie said, her muffled voice sounding more indignant than Twilight had ever heard from the party pony.

“Uh…Pinkie? Only getting half the conversation over here,” Twilight informed her friend, smiling in spite of herself; it seemed that, even without a physical form, Pinkie could still make a pony smile. “But, uh…thank her for the heads-up, and let’s not think too much about any activities I might or might not engage in that would require privacy.”

“Okey-dokey! Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Or think to you about? Talk-think? Think-talk? Thalk? Oh, I like that one!” Pinkie proclaimed cheerfully. “What I wanted to thalk to you about, is…Fluttershy and I…were listening to you talk with Rarity,” she continued, the mirth draining from her ‘voice’ with each word. “And we want you to know…we aren’t angry, Twilight,” she explained, her tone more serious than she could ever recall using. “Well…I mean, I guess I actually am angry, even if I don’t want to be, if I want to try to be happy for everypony else, and keep everypony else from being sad and mopey, but…that doesn’t mean I’m angry at you, Twilight.” There was a brief pause, and Twilight swore she heard somepony sniffle sadly. “So…don’t try to hurt yourself again, alright? Please? We…don’t want you to get lucky, and find some way around the ‘live forever’ thing…because then, we’d actually be angry at you. Because then, you really would have killed one of us.”

Twilight had heard Pinkie be serious before, when the situation was dire enough. She had seen her friend be afraid before, as well. But there was something, some desperate fear, in that request that she’d never experienced from her fun-loving friend. She gave a shallow nod to the empty room, ignoring the pointlessness of the gesture, as fresh tears streaked her cheeks. “I promise, Pinkie,” she said softly as she gently touched a hoof to her eye, a hint of a smile passing over her face as she felt the slight, familiar sting.

“Good,” Pinkie replied, still uncharacteristically solemn. “And Twilight…you should probably talk to Dashie and Applejack, too. They were really upset, and…I’m kinda worried about them,” she added.

“I will, Pinkie. I will,” she agreed, silently beginning to plan out what she’d say to her other two friends.

****

The three unicorns sat in the small room, mother and father on either side of their filly, watching the door expectantly; the adults were still not entirely at ease, curious what, precisely, the princesses needed to explain to them, but calmer than they’d been since arriving at the castle, reassured that their eldest daughter was safe. Sweetie Belle, for her part, had to force herself to stay seated and not skip around the room in her excitement; her sister was fine, she was going to be there when the princesses explained something important, and, as an added bonus, she was up substantially later than her normal bedtime. All in all, it was a fine night by the filly’s standards, lacking only ice cream and her friends to make the evening perfect.

As the door swung inward, three sets of eyes focused on it intently, expecting to see the Royal Sisters and the fourth member of their family. The look of expectation quickly turned to confusion, as the unicorn family refocused their attention significantly lower, on the small yellow filly standing in the door. Sweetie Belle’s smile widened, just for an instant, as she saw her friend…until Apple Bloom screamed. It was a wordless thing, more howl than scream, the sound a wounded animal might make as it struggled for survival. The young earth pony sprang across the room, faster than her small frame would have seemed to allow, faster than either of the adults could react. The furious child had collided with the unicorn filly, knocking Sweetie Belle onto her back, her head striking the hard floor with a crack, followed the sound of hoof striking flesh as Apple Bloom slammed a hoof into her friend’s cheek, raising her other forehoof to strike a second blow.

The blow never landed, a shimmering golden aura surrounding Apple Bloom and hefting her into the air and away from Sweetie Belle. Celestia strode wordlessly into the room, looking between the two fillies sadly; the young unicorn was largely obscured, her frantic mother tending to the injured child, her father crouching protectively between the fillies, his lips curled back in an instinctive snarl, watching warily as Apple Bloom flailed wildly, but from what the Princess of the Sun could see, and what a quick probe of her magic confirmed, Sweetie Belle had suffered no serious harm.

Meanwhile, the magical energy stretched around the thrashing child, allowing her to exhaust herself while still keeping her safely suspended away from anypony else. “Let me down!” she shouted, glaring past the two unicorn adults at the object of her rage. “She lied to me! She said the scream we heard was a good scream! She said it meant somethin’ good had happened!” she howled, tears finally beginning to stream down her cheeks as her anger, denied a physical outlet, began to wane, allowing the sorrow beneath to make itself known. “She said it meant everthin’ was gonna be fine!”

Celestia frowned sadly as the squirming filly descended into unintelligible sobs, still struggling against the magic, her punches and kicks lashing the air, angry tears falling to the floor below. “I can only assume she told you what she thought was true,” the princess said gently as she levitated the filly to her, holding her at eye level beyond the range of her short legs. “And I can understand your pain, little one, having once lost a sister myself. But this is not, I think, the time to be driving away those who are close to you,” she continued, reflecting sadly that the situations weren’t entirely equivalent, but hopeful the filly, even in her anger, wouldn’t have the nerve to argue with her.

The white stallion looked from his daughter, to Apple Bloom, and finally to Celestia, confusion on his face, panic rising in his heart. “I…what happened?” he asked, a sense of dread once more weighing on his shoulders. “Princess…you said our Rarity was fine…” he began quietly, his voice trailing off as the door, once again, swung open.

“I am fine, Father…for the most part,” Rarity replied as she stepped into the room, smiling sadly as she took in the sight before her. “Actually, I’m rather better than fine, physically,” she said with a wry half-smile, spreading her wings for emphasis. “I’m…sorry for worrying you all,” she offered weakly, finding herself at a sudden loss for words as her parents stared at her in awe.

Celestia stepped to the side, nodding to her sister as Luna quietly entered the room and stood beside her, Apple Bloom levitating between the Princesses as Rarity looked at her family, and her family stared back, trying to process the sight before them. Even the earth pony was still as she stared, unable to accept that what she was seeing.

The designer smiled as her sister twisted herself back into a sitting position, blinking in confusion, her cheek already beginning to bruise. “Sweetie Belle…are you alright?” she asked, growing worried that something had happened when she’d struck her head; the filly had an uncanny ability to avoid injury, but that didn’t mean she was unbreakable.

Sweetie Belle squinted, and tilted her head to the side as she looked over her sister, from the amethyst mane down to her hooves, her eyes lingering briefly on her sister’s back. “Umm…I’m not sure,” she said slowly, nervously. “Did…did I hit my head really hard, or…do you have wings now, sis?”

Rarity grinned at her little sister as she walked over to her family, kneeling down to nuzzle the filly as she draped her wings around her parents. “I have wings now, Sweetie,” she assured her sister, fighting against the urge to chuckle playfully as Sweetie’s face lit up.

“Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon are never going to be mean to me again,” she said dreamily, innocently distilling the situation down to the most obvious, immediate outcome, as Rarity stopped stifling herself, tittering at the thought, idly wondering if the Princesses would allow her to prove her sister correct.

“There are some rather more significant consequences of this…addition, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity admonished her sister with a playful wink, leaning in close to the filly. “Though I’ll see what can be done about those wretched little beasts,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper, followed by another quick rub of cheek against cheek before she stood and stepped back, looking between her parents. “I’m…sorry for worrying you Mother, Father,” she said, tucking her wings back against her side as her parents stared at their transformed daughter in stunned silence. “It’s…been a rather busy night, as you can likely imagine.” Uncertain what to offer as explanation, she looked to Celestia for assistance.

“Actually, Rarity, the populace at large was not informed of the threat,” Celestia said, the lie coming easily as she stepped forward. “We saw no reason to worry our subjects needlessly, as neither of us expected there to be any complications.” She lowered her head, a shadow of sadness playing across her face as she looked to the three unicorns. “Earlier today, Luna and I felt an ancient ward, placed in ages past to contain a great evil, begin to weaken; thinking that it, like so much other magic, was merely succumbing to the ravages of time, I sent my student, Twilight Sparkle to perform a ritual to reinforce the spell, accompanied by your daughter, and the other four Elements of Harmony,” she began, careful to guard against any unintentional gesture that would betray her words as false.

“Regrettably, neither I nor my sister realized that the seal’s weakening was not a natural occurrence, but an overt attempt to free the creature by a coven of malevolent unicorns; had we realized, the full might of the Day Guard would have stood guard over them.” She sighed, just enough to give the sense of weariness, without going so far as to make her seem tired or weak. Realistically, she realized her current audience would soon have bigger concerns, and was unlikely to focus too much on her words and actions, but she still felt it best not to forego the pageantry of sorrow. “My student informs me that, just as the ritual reached its climax, they were beset by the unicorns of the coven, who cowardly attacked from the shadows, striking down the other four Elements of Harmony. At that point, things become…unclear.

“My sister and I both felt a surge of immense, wild power from the site of the barrier. Fearing the worst, I went ahead, while my sister rallied her soldiers in the event they were needed. But by the time we had arrived, everything had been…resolved.” The Princess of the Day considered allowing a single tear to run down her cheek, but decided that would be too melodramatic. “The ritual, no longer bounded by the four fallen mares, apparently ran wild; all but one member of the coven was reduced to ash by the unfocused magic.”

She grimaced as if she’d just tasted something indescribably foul. “One of the misguided fools survived long enough for me to question him; somehow my student and your daughter were able to reign in the wild power of the ritual by themselves, and refocus it, completing the ritual and undoing the damage to the wards. But…something changed them.” She gestured towards Rarity’s wings for emphasis. “What that something was, neither my sister nor I can say, not yet, but we are certain there is no darkness taint behind it.”

A pause, a practiced look to Luna, who nodded after a brief delay, struggling to keep her face impassive; she knew she shouldn’t be enjoying herself, not with the concentration of suffering not fifty feet from where she stood, but she had always enjoyed seeing her sister like this, weaving together bald-faced lies, half-truths, and reality to craft a fiction that their subjects would believe. She felt the occasional twinge of guilt after the fact, as the ponies who trusted them lived out their lives based on deceit, but the Princess of the Moon couldn’t deny that allowing the population to know what dangers truly lurked in dark, forgotten places was the greater of two evils.

“Indeed,” she began, primarily addressing Rarity’s mother, “we have sensed naught but pure magic from your daughter, just as we sense from each other.” She was still uncertain regarding Celestia’s request that she speak so archaically, but her older sister had insisted it would add a certain extra weight to the words, so she had acquiesced. “We are most certain that your daughter is now a unicorn no longer, but stands, alongside my sister, Twilight Sparkle, and myself as an alicorn. As a goddess.”

That final pronouncement hung in the air as five ponies stood gaping at the princesses. A swift application of golden-shod hoof to alabaster coat, delivered while four of those ponies stared at Luna, reduced the open mouths by one; Celestia truly had intended to tell Twilight and Rarity the cover story she and Luna had settled on in advance, to avoid that kind of potential mistake, but for the second time that night an Apple’s actions had forced the issue.

“Y…you mean that…that Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy, and Applejack…are gone?” Sweetie Belle’s eyes were watering, her lip beginning to quiver as the previous joy she’d felt quickly fading. The filly had only had to deal with death once before, years ago when her wizened old granddame had passed, an event which she had barely understood, and which her parents had met with a sad sort of relief, the old mare finally free from the pain which had plagued her final years. She had been sad, of course, but it was because her family had been sad, and she had cried when her sister had cried, but she hadn’t really understood it.

Now, she was older, old enough to understand the concept of death, but still young enough to believe that it was an affliction of age, or illness, something from which she and those she cared for were safe. Something that made sense. The idea that four healthy ponies, four ponies nearly the same age as her sister, had died, was a thought she struggled to comprehend fully, her young mind railing against the very possibility. In the end, she responded with the only gesture that seemed appropriate.

She threw her forelegs around her parents, and began to weep as they tried to comfort their child.

Apple Bloom, for her part, had felt the sting of death much more intimately than her friend; her sister’s loss had reopened an old wound, poorly healed but more readily understood. “Yeah, Sweetie, mah sister is dead,” she spat bitterly, her own tears hot and angry. “Y’all get a goddess, and Ah get one more grave to cry at. Sure am glad everything’s fine.” Sweetie shrank back from her vitriolic friend, holding her parents tighter while the adults looked at the floating filly sadly.

“Apple Bloom…” Rarity began slowly, taking a step towards the angry filly, her horn beginning to glow as she glanced quickly at Celestia, nodding towards the filly. The princess nodded in kind, and her golden aura faded away from the young earth pony, replaced by a light blue glow as Rarity took over. “I know you’re upset, and nopony blames you for that,” she gently explained, stepping between the two fillies, blocking Sweetie Belle from Apple Bloom’s line of sight. “But you mustn’t be angry with Sweetie Belle for…misinforming you, when she truthfully did no such thing.” She lifted her floating charge up to her eye level, blue looking into orange. “That scream you heard…she was right, if she said it was a good sign. When I first woke up, I didn’t remember what had happened. All I knew was that I had become…like this, and…I was excited.”

She took a hesitant breath, eyes beginning to tear up as she held Apple Bloom’s gaze. “Applejack…was standing next to me, when those wretched beasts attacked, Apple Bloom. She saw them coming, just before they attacked, but…it was too late to stop them. She…she threw herself in front of me; she blocked the magic meant for me with her own body. She saved me, Apple Bloom.” She blinked, and a single tear rolled down each of her cheeks. “Your sister died to save me, Apple Bloom. So if you want to be angry at somepony, be angry with me, not Sweetie,” she pleaded, and pulled the small filly next to her, retracting the aura from around her small forelegs.

There was the faintest tremor in her face betraying the lie, an almost imperceptible twitch that might have gone unnoticed by anypony not used to spending time around ponies who would lie as soon as breathe, ponies trained by experience to be wary of anything they were told. The two ponies with multiple lifetimes spent in the company of said ponies each glanced at the other from the corner of her eye, and gave the other a shallow nod, impressed by how quickly the designer had tailored the story to her likely purpose, and slightly unnerved by how convincingly she had lied.

Apple Bloom held the alicorn’s gaze, her own tears streaming down her cheek as she slapped Rarity across the face with the flat of her hoof, then again, and a third time, while Rarity looked on sadly, the filly’s angry blows causing no more pain than a gentle tap. She held up a hoof when her father began to rise, gesturing for him to stay seated as Apple Bloom continued to strike her. The filly quickly tired of striking with only one hoof, and began to strike with both, strikingly wildly as she closed her stinging eyes, while Rarity’s family looked away and the Princesses looked on approvingly.

The young filly’s blows gradually slowed, growing weaker, her anger no longer able to compensate for her exhaustion. Backed by what little strength remained, she struck Rarity squarely in the nose, and let her hooves fall limply beneath her hovering form. She reopened her still stinging eyes, and looked at Rarity’s face, no sign of her kicks apparent. “Why?” she asked wearily, resignedly. “Why did she have to die to save you? Why couldn’t she have saved herself?” She hung her head, no longer able to meet the alicorn’s gaze. “Why’d she have to leave me, too?”

Sweetie Belle shivered and pulled her parents closer at the suggestion, images of herself in Apple Bloom’s place springing, unbidden, to her mind. “Apple Bloom…you know the kind of mare your sister was,” Rarity offered with a small, sad smile. “I don’t think it even occurred to her that she might be hurt in the process; she just saw that she could save me, and reacted.” Her smile grew, ever so slightly, as she looked from Apple Bloom to Sweetie Belle. “Just, I suspect, as you would act to save one of your friends.” Her smile faltered, her gaze shifting towards the floor ever so briefly. “And Apple Bloom…she isn’t gone, not really.”

Both Princesses looked warily at the former unicorn, their faces impassive. They hoped that Rarity was simply going to offer the same platitudes she had scoffed at earlier, simple words to comfort the foal she still held in her magic; they feared that she was not, that she meant to reveal the secret they had kept for millennia, a secret each sister had long since agreed must be kept, to ensure the stability of the nation.

Rarity, ignoring the prickling sensation on the back of her neck, raised her right foreleg, and gently touched her hoof to Apple Bloom’s chest. “You remember her, Apple Bloom. You remember the time you spent with her, the lessons she taught you. And as long as you remember…she’ll always be watching over you,” she gently finished, and nodded as the filly through her legs around her neck and began at last to weep, her anger cooled, left only with the grief and sorrow she’d attempted to suppress with rage.

Wordlessly, Luna crossed the room to stand besides the pair, her horn glowing as a second, slightly darker blue aura overlapped the Apple Bloom. The filly’s hold on Rarity slackened, her eyes flittering shut, her sobs diminishing to whimpers, and finally to a slow, steady breathing. The Moon Princess nodded to Rarity, who released her own hold over Apple Bloom’s sleeping form. “A simple sleeping spell,” she assured the increasingly nervous unicorn family. “With her anger passed, it will ensure a restful night, and pleasant dreams.” She sadly nuzzled the young earth pony. “We shall return her to her family, now. They shall need time to mourn their loss, and the four of you have much to discuss in private, no doubt.” With a brief, regal nod, she turned and strode towards the door, Apple Bloom floating in her wake. Celestia bowed her head briefly, a careful gesture of mourning, before she followed her sister out of the room.

Rarity looked from her family, over to the exiting alicorns, then back again. “Mother, Father, Sweetie…just one moment. I need to ask the Princesses something.” She flinched slightly at the crestfallen looks she received in return; Apple Bloom’s sorrow seemed somewhat contagious. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, before running for the door, hoping to have a word in private with the other alicorns.

The Princesses stood on either side of her as she emerged through the door, Celestia to her left, Luna to the right. “You did well, Rarity, embellishing the story to calm the foal,” the Solar Princess commended the designer, her horn surrounded by a golden glow, which in turn surrounded the three of them. “Protection against being overheard,” she explained preemptively.

“Ah, so you weren’t bothered by my…amendments to your scenario? Excellent.” She smiled at the implied praise.

Celestia shook her head. “Quite the contrary, I was impressed with how easily you adapted it.” She smiled impishly. “Whoever taught you was quite the skilled liar.” Luna chuckled to herself as Rarity’s cheek flushed a light pink. “It’s a useful skill to have, when one must keep groups calm in the face of impending disaster, and it’s good to know you possess it,” she explained, using the same tone Rarity had heard her use to congratulate Twilight in the past. “Now go, be with your family. We can spare you a few hours for that, at least.” The brief moment of levity passed, she turned towards the doors leading back to the waiting room, Luna following behind with the sleeping filly draped over her back, their hoofsteps echoing off the marble floor.

Rarity’s smile faded once the Princess’s were no longer looking at her, replaced by a worried frown as she recalled that brief tingling sensation she’d felt earlier, wondering what it had been. With a shake of her head, she dismissed it as her own nerves, her lips once more curled in a slight smile as she stepped back into the room, to explain what she could to her parents and sister, and to reclaim some small semblance of normalcy from the confusion the night had brought.

****

Applejack stared angrily at the crystalline wall behind her, still flawless despite her best efforts to the contrary. Growling in frustration, she delivered another sharp kick to the wall, followed by another, and another. She knew she was acting like a foal throwing a tantrum; she simply didn’t care. The last time she’d been this angry, Granny Smith has taken her out to the boundary of the farm, to a large, solid boulder, and told the filly to start kicking until the boulder cracked, her legs gave out, or she stopped being angry. The last time, she’d given up after half an hour, her rear hooves throbbing in pain, and had broken down in tears as Granny held her, looking off into the evening sky as they each mourned in their own way. Delivering another firm kick to the diamond wall, her anger undiminished, she expected to be there a while longer this time; with eternity stretching out before her, she saw no reason to rush the process.

It was relaxing, after a fashion. Nothing to think about, nothing to worry about. Plant her forehooves, lift her hind legs, and kick back just as hard as she could manage. Plant, lift, kick. Just fall into the repetitive rhythm, and she could stop thinking for a time, stop worrying about her family. Plant, lift, kick. Let her mind go numb, and she didn’t have to agonize over the pain they’d feel, as they buried another member of the family lost too young. Plant, lift, kick. Forget, if only for an instant, the injustice of being forced to watch through Rarity’s eyes, to be unable to comfort them, unable to tell them that she wasn’t really gone. Plant, lift, kick. Tune out the unending stream of sensations streaming into her mind through her link with Rarity; she knew something was happening with Apple Bloom, and she couldn’t bear to know anymore and be unable to help, unable to influence that world except by causing her friend pain.

Her concentration on her movement faltered, a glimpse of Apple Bloom flashing through her thoughts, the filly’s face twisted with her own anger. Gritting her teeth, the farmer reared back and kicked with as much force as she felt she could muster, desperate to lose herself again. Her hooves connected with the wall…and kept going, the crystal exploding outwards from the force of her kick. She looked back over her shoulder, saw the gemstone shards flying away from her, gleaming brilliantly as they began to fall. She planted her rear hooves on the floor, staring at the hole dumbly, her mouth agape as the wall began to almost grow itself back together; within seconds, it was back to its flawless perfection, and Applejack began to wonder if she’d imagined the hole.

“Sorry about that,” a familiar voice said from the empty space next to Applejack, startling the orange mare. “I only meant to weaken it a little, so you could crack it a bit, maybe feel a little better. I guess I’ll need some time to get used to this place.” There was a soft sigh as colors began to coalesce in the open air, purples, indigoes, and pinks spreading like paint until Twilight Sparkle stood beside her friend, grinning lopsidedly.

Applejack glared at the unicorn briefly before pushing her Stetson forward, hiding behind the brim, unwilling to look at her friend. “I was feeling just fine without any help, Twi,” she snapped, a bit more angrily than she’d meant to. “I’m just working out some frustration on the wall, so I don’t end up using somepony’s face instead.”

“Somepony like who, Applejack?” Twilight asked, head tilted to the side as she watched the farmer. “If you want to hit me, go right ahead. The ritual is the whole reason you’re in this mess…really can’t blame you for being angry about that,” she offered, causing Applejack to push her hat back and look her friend in the eyes. There had been no hint of mockery in her tone, and the look in her eyes wasn’t one of mirth; that had been a serious offer. A largely empty one, considering she couldn’t be hurt anymore, but it still gave the earth pony pause as she considered it.

At length, Applejack shook her head, disgusted with herself for that brief consideration. “No, Twilight. I’m not…well, I guess I am mad at you, after a fashion,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof. “If you hadn’t been so excited about the ritual, and so set on surprising the Princesses, you could’ve talked to one of them, found out what the magic would do to us, and not decided to cast it.” She sighed as she looked down at the floor. “But if I started hitting ponies whenever doing what comes naturally to them without realizing the consequences, half the ponies I know would be in the hospital more often than not,” she reasoned, followed by a bitter laugh as she recalled all of the problems Pinkie had caused despite her best intentions, or even the problems she herself had caused; poisoning and provoking a stampede jumped embarrassingly to mind.

The purple mare nodded thoughtfully, the corner of her mouth twitching as she did. “Well, that’s a bit of a relief, knowing I don’t need to watch my back around you, AJ. Though it still leaves the question of who you’d want to hit, unless…” her voice trailed off as realization dawned, an odd gleam in the unicorn’s eyes. “Celestia, Applejack? I mean, I understand why, but you really think trying to fight her will end well for you?” she asked, incredulously, shaking her head at the other mare. “Ignoring that you can’t really hurt her, and that she could just leave, while you’d still be stuck in here…what would you accomplish?”

Applejack glowered at Twilight, no longer quite as certain that she didn’t want to strike her. “Not much of anything, other than feeling better for a little bit,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “But it’s not like she could do much to me, either, so really, there isn’t much reason for me not to do it, is there? Pretty much the only upside of being dead; there’s not much anypony can do to make things worse for you.”

“Except make her dig her hooves in about not interacting with your family,” Twilight pointed out. “But, if that’s what you want…”

“She already made it pretty clear they can’t know I’m still around in here, Twilight.” She snorted in annoyance. “After all, if I told my family I wasn’t really gone, the world might end.”

“No, Applejack, if anypony else found out, the world might end,” the unicorn corrected, rolling her eyes as she did. “Be honest, do you think your family could really keep a secret this huge? Yeah, Big Macintosh probably could, but Granny Smith is half-senile already, and Apple Bloom’s still a filly; neither of them is particularly good at keeping their mouths shut right now.” She paused, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards again as she looked at her friend. “And, well …let’s not forget that Apple Bloom was involved the last time Discord nearly took over the world, and not in a way that would necessarily inspire confidence.”

“You’d better watch your mouth there, sugarcube, or I might just take a swing at you after all,” Applejack warned, scratching at the floor with her hoof. “I don’t much appreciate you calling my family untrustworthy. Least none of my kin ever mistook a shape-changing bug for the love of their life.”

“Oh, you’ve got me there, AJ. I’m sure a member of the Apple family would never be taken in by a changeling, and wouldn’t possibly side with the changeling over one of her closest friends,” Twilight shot back. “All anypony’d need to do is offer your family the chance to cater something, and they’d do anything the anypony asked them to-“ She was cut off by a burst of pain, and suddenly found herself laying on the floor, Applejack looming over her, hoof still raised, her breathing shallow. “And there’s the Apple family’s poor impulse control. No need to think things through and consider all the options and consequences.

“Two ponies you decide need to be together have no apparent interest in each other? Better whip up something you read about in a book to make them love each other; no need to actually read the entire book and find out you’re actually poisoning them. Somepony hurts your pride? Better agree to a bet that could bankrupt your family if you lose, while providing no real benefit if you win. Which, just as a reminder, you technically lost, even with the rest of us helping you, and you would have lost outright if we hadn’t been there.” Applejack took a step back as Twilight stood, contempt plain on her face. “And then, we have my personal favorite. ‘I didn’t place first in any events at a national rodeo? Better abandon my family and friends, then refuse to explain myself and lead those friends on a chase through the desert when they come looking for me.’ That was really well thought out, Applejack; real high level planning.

“And of course, we can’t forget about tonight, can we? You see a friend, obviously devastated by the unintended consequences of her actions, and what do you do? Try to comfort her, or at least stay quiet so you don’t make things worse?” The lavender mare laughed bitterly. “No, of course not! You tell her that yes, it’s absolutely her fault you’re dead, prompting her to try to destroy herself out of guilt.”

The earth pony turned away, unable to bear her friend’s withering glare any longer. Much as she hated to admit it, much as she wanted to reject her friend’s spiteful words outright, there was no way to deny the ring of truth to them. Her family did have a tendency to act without thinking, a trait which rarely seemed to serve them well. Maybe, she reflected, Celestia was right, keeping her family in the dark. “Twilight, I…I’m sorry about…”

“Save it, Applejack,” Twilight interrupted dismissively. “Apologizing now is pointless; I pointed out how badly you screwed up, how badly your entire family has screwed up in the past, so of course you’re going to feel sorry for yourself and ask for forgiveness. The trouble is I’m not in much of a forgiving mood right now. So stop talking. Think, Applejack. Think, then speak,” she instructed, sighing as she turned and walked away from the other mare. “Next time you see me, if you still feel like you should apologize, do it then…but you’d better apologize for the underlying problem, not just the obvious symptoms. Don’t apologize for hitting me; apologize for not being able to control your emotions better.

“And Applejack…Lovecraft was right,” she added without turning back to look at the orange mare. “You use the truth like a bludgeon, without regard for the consequences, and on the rare occasions when you try to lie, it’s clumsy and obvious. Rarity can be generous without giving away everything she owns; Pinkie can spread laughter without trying to turn a funeral into a dance party. Learn how to be honest, without being completely tactless.” Twilight looked over her shoulder at her friend, expression grim. “Otherwise, your only option is to figure out a way to take control of Rarity’s body and then beat Celestia, Luna, and me in a fight; probably the only way you’ll get to talk to anypony again. Though if you can’t control yourself, there’s not much chance you could control somepony else.”

Applejack turned to question Twilight, only to see her friend dissipate into a cloud of purple mist which quickly vanished blew past her, leaving her alone in the small chamber. Coughing from her friend’s smokey exit, she lay down dejectedly on the floor, thinking about what Twilight had said, admitting to herself that, despite her caustic manner, she hadn’t been entirely wrong in Her assessment. It was no secret that the Apple family had a tendency to rush into situations without thinking things through all the way, and even glorified that kind of behavior.

Sure, she reflected, sometimes it worked out for the best; if Granny Smith hadn’t been foolish enough to go into the Everfree at night to look for food, they might have never discovered the Zap Apples, and Ponyville might not be the town it was today. But that same attitude had helped put Applelossa in conflict with the buffalos, instead of taking the time to work the issue out ahead of time.

It was an Apple family decision, back when they had more influence over the town government, which had barred the use of magic during Winter Wrap-up, even though it slowed things down significantly; nopony really talked about it anymore, but she’d heard whispers that it was because her great-grandpappy begrudged unicorns their magic, and had imposed the rule to make himself feel superior to the first unicorn settlers. The rule only continued to stand because anytime anypony suggested changing it Granny Smith started shouting about tradition and respect for the ponies who founded the town until everypony let it drop just so she’d stop talking about it.

She had to admit, Granny Smith finding out would mean everypony would know within a matter of days, if it even took that long; everypony might not believe her, but a few might, and that could be enough. And, much as it pained her, Apple Bloom couldn’t be told, either; Applejack didn’t believe her little sister would tell anypony intentionally, but the filly did have a knack for making trouble. That only left Big Macintosh; granted, he knew how to keep a secret, but she couldn’t imagine burdening him with the task of lying to the rest of the family, with nopony to talk to about it. No, she’d defer to the princesses, at least for the time being, agonizing as it was to be cut off from her family. In a few years, when Apple Bloom was more mature, more discrete, maybe she could ask again.

“There you are.” The words snapped Applejack from her silent reverie, and she looked to the single door leading into the chamber, an ebon earth pony stood there, framed by the diamond, her face the very image of disinterest. “I’ll give you some credit, farmer. I wouldn’t have expected you to be able to hide from me for as long as you did, considering how little you know about how this place works.”

“And I’ll give you credit; not many ponies I know can make their compliments sound like insults quite so effectively,” Applejack replied, pointedly looking away from the new arrival. “You here to add more insults to the pile, make me feel worse about myself? Or did Celestia send you to watch me so I can’t do any more harm?”

Behind the farmer’s back, Lovecraft smirked. “Who’s to say it can’t be both, sweetie?” she asked, her voice dripping with forced cheer. The sound of her hoofsteps echoed in the room as she walked towards the prone mare, her gait measured and precise. Soon she stood next to Applejack, eyes straight ahead, declining to actually look at the other mare as she spoke. “I’m not going to apologize for what I said earlier. We should get that out of the way first, I think. The fact that you, of all ponies, were chosen as the new Honesty…it speaks volumes about the world Celestia shaped in our absence.”

“Not the first time you mentioned that. Want to explain it a bit, or is being cryptic and abusive your special talent.” The orange mare continued to stare ahead, sharing Lovecraft’s refusal to look at the pony she was talking to. “And what’re you talking about, absence? Get lost in here at some point?”

At that comment, the black mare did look at her counterpart, openly scowling. “I’d ask if you were being that dense on purpose, but I’m honestly not sure you’re clever enough for that; nothing I’ve seen of you gives me cause to believe it, at the least.” She pressed a hoof to her forehead, pressing gently. “In case you weren’t paying attention, I don’t have my own body anymore, same as you. You’re joined to your little friend with aspirations of nobility; I’m joined to Luna,” she explained, speaking at an exaggeratedly slow pace. “Now, would you care to guess what would happen to you if Little Miss Fauxbility was completely cut off from the outside world? If she was, oh, I don’t know…imprisoned on the moon for a millennium? I’ll give you a hint; you don’t get to stay in the comfy mental construct with the friends you’d been trying to destroy.

“So there we are, a thousand years without a true Element of Honesty, and Celestia…she did her best, I suppose, but there’s only so much she can do. The three of them had Kindness, Loyalty, and Laughter well in hand, so there was no problem properly instilling those ideals in the populace. Magic…Magic takes care of itself; it flows through the world as naturally as blood flows through your veins.” She heaves a wistful sigh, once more looking towards the wall, through the transparent crystal to the vast expanse outside. “As for Generosity, it seems there’s enough overlap between being kind and being generous that things have worked out. Of course, Dream Keeper isn’t thrilled that the richest ponies aren’t being robbed more often to aid the poor, but polite society frowns upon that kind of lawlessness these days.”

“Listen, I’m sure this is all really interesting, and I’m sorry to hear you got stuck on the moon with Nightmare Moon for a thousand years, but if you want to give somepony a lesson on history and politics, you want to talk to Twilight, not me,” the farmer said pointedly, wanting nothing more than to be left alone again.

Lovecraft snorted derisively. “So, patience isn’t one of your virtues, either. Fine. Though, as a point of clarification, we weren’t ‘stuck’ with Nightmare Moon; she was an amalgam of all three of us, acting as one, alongside certain…other factors. And those thousand years were very, very interesting.” She grinned at Applejack’s shocked expression. “But you’re not interested in history, so I’ll get to my point. These days…from what I’ve seen, ponies treat honesty as a binary state; either somepony is telling the truth, or they aren’t. Yes, you all tend to recognize that lies are sometimes necessary, but generally it’s all very…simple.

“I look at you, and see you as the paragon of that Honesty. That flat, black and white plane of truth.” She sighed again, stepping towards the wall, seemingly intent to speak to the walls of the room, as if Applejack was there by mere happenstance. “As we fought Discord, the truth was a razor’s edge we all had to walk. And I…” she paused again, smiling as she remembered the past. “I didn’t walk on it; I danced.” She glanced back at Applejack over her shoulder. “Representing Honesty wasn’t a hindrance as spymistress; it was an asset,” she explained, her voice softening, while Applejack listened with rapt attention. “Harmony protected us, and Honesty was part of that protection. A pony who lied too much, or too severely, wasn’t shunned merely because they couldn’t be trusted; they were a vulnerability. They were a way for Discord to gain an ally without our forces.

“We needed to hide the truth, then, without lying to our enemies. Or our allies, for that matter.” She looked away from Applejack again, eyes closed as hollow protection against the ghosts of the past. “Even today, the world is fragile, the forces of darkness prowling just beyond the light of civilization. You can’t even imagine how much worse it was back then, farmer. I stopped counting how many times we stood on the precipice of annihilation, or how many times we would have fallen over if Discord’s forces hadn’t turned on themselves at some mad whim.

“Special tactical manuals were put together on Celestia’s orders, shown only to the king, the queen, and the six of us.” She shook her head sadly. “There were ‘tactics’ concerning soldiers who threw down their weapons and fled in a mad panic, or who surrendered to the enemy. It even classified death as a ‘retreat from the world of the living.’ Just so we could claim any battle which turned against us as a tactical retreat.” The ancient mare sat down, head tilted back to look at the ceiling. “It was misleading, but it was also, technically, true. Truth, tempered by kindness.

“And what she learned to do, what she did with practice and planning, in the name of sparing her subjects the horrors of war, I did naturally,” she continued, pride mingling with sorrow. “In my entire adult life, I told four outright lies, and not a single one of them related to my duties. And despite that, I could convince sentries that I had clearance to enter the most closely guarded strongholds; I convinced trained interrogators that there were spies within their ranks, and watched as they turned on each other.” A single tear slipped from her left eye; she unconsciously brushed it away. “And I could make the most battle hardened general in Discord’s service believe that I truly loved him. I could even convince my own body of that long enough for him to fall asleep, so I could run a dagger across his throat.

“So, if it seems that I don’t like you…that’s why,” she concluded, head still tilted back. “I see you and…I mourn what I’ve lost. You remind me that Equestria moved on while I was away; that I’m a relic of an age long past.” She cast another glance behind her, smiling weakly as she saw the orange mare continued to stare at her in what could best be described as awe. “And, I’ll be honest; it disappoints me that you don’t seem to know that, when it’s a matter of sparing those closest to you, a lie can sometimes be more honest than the truth.”

Applejack didn’t know how to respond. She had expected the older pony to belittle her, had expected insults and arrogance, had expected flimsy justifications for not being able to interact with her family, and had been ready to respond with indignation and anger. Instead, a mare who was practically a stranger had opened up to her. True, she had still been somewhat condescending, but the orange mare, still feeling introspective after Twilight’s harsh assessment, had to admit there was a certain truth to what she’d said. And, she reasoned, if they were going to face an eternity with a limited number of companions, alienating one wasn’t an especially good idea.

“You’re not a relic,” she said at last, trying to sound cheerful, managing to barely sound less than miserable. “I’m sure plenty of ponies would love to be able to…twist the truth around like it sounds you could, and but still not actually lie.” She winced slightly, her words sounding hollow even as she spoke; she really was awful when she tried to lie.

Lovecraft shook her head, smiling as she did. “On second thought, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut, if that’s how well you can lie,” she replied, her words gentle, meant as a simple suggestion, not a veiled insult. “And even if you believed it…I have it on very good authority that I’m not honest enough for this new world. Good effort, though; there might be hope for you yet.” For a moment, the two shared an awkward smile, before the silver-maned mare turned away again. “There’s…something else,” she solemnly announced. “Celestia did send me to talk with you, farmer…Applejack. About your family.”

The farmer tensed up, the feelings of goodwill that had been building doused in an instant. “Of course she did,” she replied coolly, her gaze hardening into a glare. “So, was that nice little speech just supposed to make me feel bad for you, so I wouldn’t make a fuss about that again?” She climbed angrily to her feet and spun away from her companion, towards the door…only to face a smooth, unbroken wall.

Slowly, Lovecraft rose from her seated position, shaking her head as she turned to look at Applejack. “I swear to you, as an Element of Honesty, that everything I said was absolutely true,” she promised as she took a slow step forward. “Yes, I told you all I did because I wanted to develop a rapport, but it wasn’t so I could then exploit that bond and convince you that Celestia was right, or that you should never interact with your family again for the good of the kingdom. But please, believe me when I tell you that, even if her given reason may seem mad to you…it truly is for the best that your family, and especially your sister, think you dead.”

She paused, and Applejack turned to look at Lovecraft; her head was bowed as she walked, her shoulders slumped forward. The farmer watched cautiously, her impulse towards mistrust warring with a sense that the elder pony wasn’t trying to trick her. “Why?” she asked, her tone clipped and inpatient. “Why did she send you, if it wasn’t for that? What gives you the right to tell me what’s best for my family?”

Lovecraft looked up, and Applejack stepped back; the dark mare’s eyes were wet with tears, her face marked by an old sorrow still freshly felt; a pain Applejack recognized well, having seen it in the mirror more times than she cared to admit. “Because,” the other mare replied, able to keep all but the barest hint of her pain from her voice as she spoke, “I’ve seen firsthoof just what knowing can do to a pony. Because, millennia ago, I saw that knowledge destroy my own daughter.”